


All Five

by MissIzzy



Series: Growing Up Universe [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Birthday Presents, Bombing, Cities, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi, Jedi Temple, Minor Character Death, Public Transportation, Sneaking Around, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissIzzy/pseuds/MissIzzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Anakin turns thirteen, the Council has grown desperate enough to take out Darth Maul that they are willing to use his chosen targets as bait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lantern

**29 BBY**

 

They were lucky the people who’d planted the bomb hadn’t really known what they were doing. It had clearly been placed in the room just below the throne room, and when the explosion hit, the room was rocked, and Anakin thought the floor had probably sustained some damage. But it held itself together, unbreached, and it didn’t feel like the building’s support structure was going to give either, at least not immediately.

No one in the throne room was seriously injured either, although a few of the Sellians were thrown against the walls and the furniture. Anakin had known those fancy table legs had been a terrible idea. As he determined this, Master Jinn fell to his knees and into meditation. Anakin didn’t ask him why; hopefully he’d explain at some point.

In the meantime, looked like it fell to him to get over to the Prince and try to keep him calm. It wasn’t looking promising. He’d been thrown to the floor, and was rubbing his knees as he got up; he’d probably scraped them. Lady Riva was draping herself over him, not even pretending she wasn’t his mistress in the way she was cooing her concern. When Anakin called out, “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he looked up, and his face was filled with thunder.

“Who did this?” he demanded. “Do you know?”

Anakin didn’t even call him out for that ridiculous question. “Not yet, Your Highness,” he said, “but I promise you, we will find out.”

“Well, it must be either the Sharos or Lord Mussi,” said Lady Riva, looking at him in a way that made it clear she couldn't look past his being twelve; she didn't even know he was going on thirteen. “Who else could it be?”

Anakin wasn’t about to make that kind of assumption, especially because he didn’t think it was the Sharos. They would’ve done a better job at it, would’ve known where in the palace to place the bomb. A political rival, possibly Lord Mussi, seemed more likely. In any case, that wasn’t the most important thing right now. “We must get you and everyone else to safety. Can you tell us who knows how many people are in this palace and where they are?”

“There are eight wounded on the ground floor,” Master Jinn announced from where he was kneeling. “At least one person has been killed, possibly more.”

“If you want to know who’s where in the palace, Master Jedi,” said Lady Dara, coming over to them, perfectly steady on her feet, “then you want to High Master. He’ll know. I’ll comm him if you want.”

“Yes, do that,” Anakin told her. “And we need to send people downstairs to help the wounded.”

“He’s know who to send. I’ll tell him that.”

Meanwhile Master Jinn had risen from his meditation. “I don’t think there is any further strike imminent,” he said. “Nonetheless, I would still recommend the evacuation of the palace, both as a precautionary measure in case I am wrong and because we cannot be certain about the extent of the structure damage.”

“Flee?” protested an indignant Lord Currs. “On those flimsy grounds?”

The final decision had to be the Prince’s, Anakin supposed, although he wasn’t whom he personally would’ve chosen to make it. “Your Highness,” he urged, “there are many lives at stake here, including yours.”

There was a pause, where at least the Prince’s face went from anger to a more contemplative look. Lady Dara was talking quietly over the comm, then she announced, “He’s sending a stitch party.”

“They’ll need to be gotten out of there as soon they can all be moved,” said the Prince. “Make sure that is done as well; have the High Master send extra people if needed. Also, get everyone off this top floor. Then all the staff except the High Master, his two deputies, and the Master Carpenter are to evacuate. Others may also go if they wish. I will stay. We will all gather at the undamaged end of the palace and I will meet with my main chamber. Master Jedi, if you would be so good as to attend?”

Better and more thought-out than Anakin had expected. He would’ve liked to have gone to help the wounded instead though. He suspected he would’ve been of much more use doing that.

Lady Dara repeated the Prince’s commands to the High Master; a moment later the announcers came on, the High Master spreading the word throughout the palace. Calm was taking over the throne room, everyone heading towards the doors, and the stairway was just below. “Someone should at least stay up here until everyone is off the floor,” said Lord Currs.

“Padawan,” Master Jinn nodded to him, much to Anakin’s relief.

The grand staircase was just outside the throne room; Anakin saw the group down it, Master Jinn with them, just before another group of people approached, led by a woman he was pretty sure was one of the High Master’s deputies. “How many people on this floor?” he asked her as he intercepted them.

“About a hundred,” she said. “Mostly staff. A few of them have living quarters up here; I’m afraid one woman had to go back for her baby. Most of the rest will probably be getting out by the side stairs; at this time of day half of them would be on and off them anyway.”

The crowd of Sellians running past Anakin, not even paying much attention to him, were at least a couple dozen, probably more. By the time they were on the first floor, if the deputy was right, there would be few enough people left up here that tracking them through the Force would be easy. He decided to focus on the servant with her child.

A couple of the stragglers at the back did stop to talk to him, mostly asking questions about what was going on or thanking him. He appreciated the latter well enough, but wished he had a real response for the former. Instead he said words about the palace being under attack and the first priority before finding out who’d done it was getting everyone to safety.

When virtually everyone else was off the floor, he honed in on two life forms near him, and was alarmed to sense that they weren’t moving. Also that they were completely terrified, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He pushed aside a fallen pillar with the Force and stepped into the room he believed them to be in, and then he started to feel the floor below him start to shake.

It was a complicated room, with fancy screens built into the floor and thick curtains hanging from the ceiling, most of which were still in place. Anakin could hear, somewhere beyond the barriers, a female voice pleading, “Please, Darry, please, let go, let go!”

Some of the lights had been knocked out. One of the screens had a lantern attached to it that was easy to pull off. Holding it in front of him, Anakin sought out the location of mother and child through the Force, pushing aside a thick blue curtain with ridiculously heavy trim, and making his way around two lengthy screens that bent and twisted themselves to give the feeling of walking in a maze. The woman was still pleading with her son. Anakin recalled that the Sellians, though mostly like humans, had an ability to grip with their hands that made it hard to wrestle anything away from their grasp.

“Madam?” he called as he maneuvered around a second, lighter curtain, and came upon the pair. The baby was holding onto another curtain, one apparently made of stuff durable enough it refused to rip, and she was struggling in vain to pull him off. She looked at him desperately.

It was the work of a moment to use the Force to tug at the two ends of the cloth roughly enough that it tore off. The baby promptly began to wail at the top of his lungs. It was loud enough Anakin briefly worried for the building’s already weakened foundations. On impulse he lifted the lantern up and forward over the baby’s head, and shook it. It was made of two oblong globes, both of which generated light, connected to each other by a silver chain just long enough for it to swing back and forth a little. The baby’s attention was grabbed, although he didn’t stop crying entirely. “Come on,” he said to his mother. “Let’s get you two to safety.”

He ended up holding that lantern up the entire time as she led them to the nearest back staircase, using his other hand to lift up anything in their way with the Force. It was a good thing to have on the stairs anyway; the lighting had been knocked out, and those there was some sunlight coming in, the lantern really helped them see where they were going. Near the bottom Darry finally stopped crying completely, and when Anakin looked down at him, he saw he was nearly asleep.

There was a back door at the bottom of the stairs. “You should go out here,” he advised the servant. “Can you get to safety on your own?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you, Master Jedi. I think you probably saved both our lives back there.”

Conservative in her gratitude, Anakin thought; he was much more sure he had. She wasn’t the first Sellian, though, he’d seen be like that; he knew obligations were important to them, and so a lot of them didn’t admit to them lightly. Although it didn’t seem that likely to him he’d ever need a favor from her anyway. “Take the lantern,” he offered. “It’ll be dark soon.” She thanked him again as she did so.

The door opened into a secluded alleyway, and Anakin watched her head down it with her son. He could sense his Master and a number of others now gathering at the far end of the palace, and when she was gone from his sight he hurried to join them.

 

####  **Shortly After**

 

The meeting was well underway by the time he got there. He stepped in to a room where several loud voices were talking at once, and the only people who even turned their heads towards him were Master Jinn and one elderly female sitting nearest to the doors. She raised her eyebrows at him, like Lady Riva seemingly only noticing his being young. He could have let his cloak fall back so she could see his lightsaber, but she wasn’t worth that. Instead he went over to his Master, glad Master Jinn had saved a seat for him.

“And if we sit here arguing for much longer, and it is Lord Mussi,” said one man whose name Anakin didn’t know, “he could be at the spaceport by now, and we can’t stop him from leaving the planet. And how do we really know the Republic will be willing to arrest him?”

“That would depend on the planet he landed on, wouldn’t it?” asked a young woman sitting near him.

“It would,” Master Jinn confirmed. “But you heard his highness; there is, right now, no evidence against anyone. For the record, during my own brief meeting with Lord Mussi, I sensed no particular deception from him, but I could have very easily been mistaken.”

“Really?” laughed the woman. “That kind of uncertainty is not what I would expect from a Jedi.”

“It was under highly unusual circumstances,” Anakin told her. _Don’t get angry,_ he reminded himself, but that wasn’t easy. “And he barely had five minutes to talk to him.”

“In that case,” said the Prince, loudly enough to cut off two more voices that had just started speaking, “Master Jinn, if we are able to keep Lord Mussi here on Sopertlia, would you have confidence of being able to judge him in a longer interview?”

“Still quite an if there,” Anakin heard the man from earlier murmur. He wished he’d shut up.

“I should be able to,” said Master Jinn, his sereneness a sharp contrast to everyone else there.

“What about in this room?” asked Lady Riva. “Is there anyone here being less than honest with us?”

Anakin hoped there was then, and that his Master would easily be able to find them and show all these stupid haughty nobles just how competent he was. But he shook his head. “You all have emotions running very high right now, and some are you are much more afraid than this situation truly calls for. But no one here is engaging in active deceit.”

The young woman snorted, obviously unimpressed. That caused Anakin to demand, “Can anyone here determine better?”

“Peace!” called Lady Dara from where she was seated by the Prince at the head of the table. “If we go much further down this route it shall not matter whether or not anyone here means the rest of us harm; we shall all do it to ourselves as well as each other anyway. Let us return to the main point. We have two ideas for how this attack could have happened, as well as multiple candidates for who in particular. We have one name who has come up.” Anakin noticed Master Jinn perk up at that; it seemed he had sensed something else he wasn’t willing to impart to everyone just yet. “We also have a public that must be talked to, and soon. What do we tell them?”

“No names yet,” said Lord Currs.

“But they’ll know Lord Mussi is the top suspect,” protested someone else, whom Anakin believed was known as Lord Rosc.

“Oh tell them it’ll be investigated,” said the Prince. “Will that be what they think of first?”

“Of course not,” laughed a certain Lady Oller, whom Anakin had gotten into an embarrassing argument with his first day there. “They’ll want to know how likely it is another explosion will go off, one that might hurt them.”

“If it was Lord Mussi,” said the man, “then most of them will be safe. What interest would he have in blowing just any part of the city up?”

“But we don’t know it’s not!” protested Lord Currs. “You are not suggesting we say it’s him just to keep them from panicking?”

“Probably wouldn’t work,” said the Prince, in a way that made Anakin think he’d had no qualms about making such an accusation if he’d believed it would work.

“You can say,” offered Master Jinn, “that you have reason to believe another attack outside the palace is not imminent. It is better than saying nothing.”

“What would you know about it?” scoffed Lady Oller.

“He knows more about than any of the rest of you here!” snapped Anakin. “You should listen to him!”

“Anakin,” said Master Jinn, very gently. Anakin didn’t think he even quite disapproved of his Padawan’s attitude, but was simply worried for its consequences.

The Prince didn’t seem to disapprove either, as he said, “Then we will say is it an ongoing investigation, and we do not believe another explosion is about to happen. I do not think…” But just then, one of the High Master’s deputies came into the room, clutching one of the pieces of metal the Sellians sometimes liked to write on when they wanted to write something and not on a computer. She held it close to her chest until she reached the Prince, and then she drew it forward just enough so that only he could see what was written on it as she whispered in his ear.

When she drew away, he rose. “Things have gotten more complicated,” he announced. “Everyone please leave this room except Lady Dara, Lord Toll, Lord Drasa, and Lady Fodni.”

Protests from everyone except the four named filled the air, Anakin didn’t know if his own was heard by anyone, even Master Jinn. But Master Jinn did not protest, which baffled Anakin, who was sure he ought to know, so he could help these people.

Eventually, the Prince had his way. The two Jedi ended up being among the last to leave, Lady Riva with them. “I agree with you, by the way, Jedi Skywalker,” she said. “He ought to have let your Master stay. I think if one of the deputies came in like that, it means some servant has inadvertently said something important. They may know it was Lord Mussi now. Or the Sharos. Or somebody else.”

“Can we eavesdrop, at least, Master?” Anakin asked.

“No,” said Lady Riva sadly, and Master Jinn echoed it: “The walls are soundproofed. They will allow us to do no more here. We will go around the building and search for where the foundations are most stressed.”

That was a mind-numbing task to do; he had to phase his mind completely into it, until he was away of nothing but wood and stone and pressure and gravity and the other forces acting on them. He had been told it was kind of crazy that he was better at it than his Master was, because Qui-Gon Jinn was one of the best at it in the Order. Although his Master was arguably still better at analyzing the stresses he found and figuring out what to do about them, even if Anakin was improving there. Which meant it was Anakin doing most of the tedious scanning, Master Jinn joining in only when he found something.

It was a long process too. It was well into the evening when they had at last covered the entire palace, and Master Jinn presented his findings to the High Master. It was from him that they learned that Lord Mussi had indeed left the planet, and there was talk of requesting the two Jedi pursue him. Not the best use of them, Anakin had to admit, but he couldn’t say he’d mind the task. He’d be much better at it than he was at the negotiation table. At least there had been no further attacks anywhere.

 

####  **The Next Day**

 

Things were secure enough in one section of the first floor that a handful of people received cots and slept there that night, including the Prince, the four nobles he’d had the still secret discussion with, a few other nobles, the High Master, and the two Jedi. Anakin thought of trying to stay awake, to see if anyone snuck away to have more secret discussions in the night, but Master Jinn fell asleep so fast he couldn’t help but think he’d sensed such a thing to be very unlikely.

He woke up very early in the morning, according to the large light-up chronometer someone had been thoughtful enough to put in the middle of the floor. Master Jinn was gone, probably off doing some really early morning communion with the pre-dawn air or something. The High Master was gone too, which wasn’t a surprise either; he’d probably be the busiest person of all that day. The Prince, on the other hand, was fast asleep. Anakin noticed that while Lady Riva was nowhere in sight, her scarf had somehow ended up placed on top of him. If he understood Sellian custom right, that was supposed to bring him some vague protection.

Most of the others who had taken cots there the previous night were also still in them, but there was one that was empty. Anakin ran over his mental list of who’d been there, checking them off as best he could against those he could see present-he’d thought before the Sellians wore too much jewelry but maybe they didn’t as much as it had seemed, because there wasn’t as much as it around to help identify them as there could have been. He was especially relieved to see Lord Truo still there; he’d had some close association with Lord Mussi in the past. He thought the missing one was instead Lady Oller.

His first thought was she could just do whatever far away from him. But that wasn’t very responsible of him, so he opened his mind up to the Force, and quickly located her and the High Master a couple of rooms away, along with his deputies and the Master Carpenter.

He was pretty sure the whole thing was harmless by the time he walked in to find her sitting and watching as they examined the rooms walls, consulting with their datapads which he thought had to contain the information he and Qui-Gon had gotten for them last night; they were very near one of the stress points they’d found. He was about to leave, and possibly go look for Master Jinn, or just return to the others and wait for them to wake up, when Lady Oller called out to him, “Master Jedi?” That in itself was surprising; she’d previously addressed him only as “Padawan Skywalker.”

“Yes, Your Grace?” He hadn’t addressed her with that honorific either; it was a pretty formal one anyway. Even so, he was surprised when hearing it caused her look down, as if it made her feel a little humbled.

“I feel like I should apologize to your Master. Maybe you too. For what I said, yesterday, about his level of knowledge. I have since come to think about the fact that he has likely seen thousands of people like us, in our kind of situation, and that you were right; he would know well what to do. I’m afraid at the time I was really only think about how relatively little you two still know about our world.”

“Wow,” Anakin couldn’t help but say. “You know how few people in your position would make that kind of admission?”

“Even to a child such as yourself?” she asked. “I still believe you are one, and I have not changed my mind about anything I said to you during our dispute. But I have always believed that one should not put one’s self wrongly over a child, especially not out of pride.”

 _Don’t get angry._ It was easier than it had been a year ago. It helped that he was still genuinely impressed with her odd integrity.

Master Jinn had gone further afield than he’d thought; just then he felt him returning into his easy range, walking briskly back towards the palace. “Will you find the time to apologize to Master Jinn? I believe he is coming.”

“You are showing off,” she snapped at him, quite unlike someone who had just expressed repentance. “And he is old and wise enough not to need it.”

“You still should do it,” said Anakin, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do is to stay here where I am supervising the staff.”

That was technically true, and Master Jinn would’ve backed her up, which was the biggest reason Anakin let it go. Still, he thought, it didn’t look like she was actually doing anything useful here. It left him with quite a few peeved feelings he had to make himself release as he went off to meet with his Master.

He slipped out one the back doors, one that led down another one of those alleyways. In the early morning light, he tried to take a survey of the building, but from where he was standing there wasn’t much to see, especially when the walls blended into the various lines of buildings that formed beyond it. He had pretty much given up by the time Master Jinn appeared in the alley, holding a parcel. “Good morning, Master. What’s in there?”

“Your thirteenth nameday present,” said Master Jinn, smiling. “Have you forgotten it is nearly here? Two weeks away, of course, but I had the idea for the present this morning, and it was one I wanted to get here.”

He hadn't forgotten, mostly because he'd felt the aggravation of being so close to thirteen and yet being unable to yet claim the age. But wasn’t in the recent weeks he’d been thinking about his nameday itself. That had instead been four months ago, when he had last seen Padmé, and she had confided to him she thought their Masters were waiting for it to do something. “They were talking about it covertly, like it was an important date. Maybe it’s something to do with this whole Chosen One thing.”

He didn’t believe that anymore, though. Maybe Master Windu kept secrets like that from her, but he couldn’t help but believe Master Jinn would have told him by now if something important was going to happen then.

Unless what was in the parcel somehow had something to do with it. As Anakin took it from his Master, he tried to gauge what was in it. It felt like a pair of lumps. “Go on,” his Master said to him, “open it,” and he was quite happy to pull the paper open.

It was a lantern, much like the one he’d charmed the little boy with the previous day, with the same two globes and silver chain, although this one had a proper handle and had obviously been made to be carried around. It felt weird to take it out, to think of it at his. It had been one thing the previous day, when he’d been improvising in an urgent situation. But this delicate, probably expensive thing was not something that was supposed to belong to a Jedi.

Master Jinn probably guessed what he was thinking, because he said, “It might not look like much, but two lights which are just small enough you can carry them can find many uses. Indeed, I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to rig it so you can detach and reattach them from the chain, so take that as a challenge.” Anakin did like the sound of that, as well as the idea of Master Jinn’s gift providing him with the kind of job he enjoyed above all others, he sometimes thought. “And while I suppose their beauty might not mean that much to you, I hope, when you are older, you will come to feel some appreciation for the kind of craft that goes into it, that someone cared enough about the universe around them to make the effort to create beauty. That is something Jedi tend to overlook, and I find that sad, that we spend our lives in service to the people of the galaxy without appreciating such a great part of why they are worth that.”

It was a very Qui-Gon Jinn way of thinking, and Anakin supposed he understood where he was coming from. Still, he thought, by the time he got old enough for that kind of appreciation, what state would the lantern even be in?


	2. Old Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The five Jedi involved are summoned before the Council.

When Mace Windu emerged from his meditation, his first thought was the location of his Padawan. It wasn’t easy to track her down: the Room of a Thousand Fountains was always crowded at this time of day.

He finally found her through the Force. She was in another part of the garden, and surrounded by a trio of much younger Padawans, probably ones whose Masters were also meditating somewhere in here. It was exactly what he would expect from her, although he did hope they didn’t keep her talking for an hour this time. Hers was a generous heart that never wanted to ask someone to finish talking to her; it had gotten the better of her during missions more than once. Although on at least one occasion he was pretty sure it had won them a vital ally.

By the time he reached her, though, two of them had fallen away, called off to their own Masters. Padmé sat with her old friend Ellé Okrest who had recently become apprenticed to Adi Gallia. And when Adi had once said after she’d gotten one Padawan killed that she’d never take another one, but that was a resolve none of them could really afford to have anymore.

Once, too, Mace would’ve been concerned about Padmé now seeing so much of two Padawans she’d been overly close to during their days as Initiates. But Ellé was harmless, compared to her relationship with Anakin Skywalker, and anyway, he’d come to see this part of her as, if still a potential weakness, a potential source of strength as well.

He thought Ellé was a bit intimidated by him, though. The minute their eyes fell on him, she was on her feet and bowing fast, the way Padmé herself might have once done. He tried to make his voice gentle as he said, “Padawan Okrest. How go things with you and Master Gallia?”

“Well, sir,” she said, not looking up at him. “We are going out on another mission tonight. Almost as soon as she's done here she will head straight to the Council chamber, and then likely to our ship from there. We even ate very early.”

“Her connection to the Force has gotten a lot stronger,” Padmé told him. “Master Gallia put her through some very strong meditation exercises about a month ago, when they happened to be on Kashyyyk, took her out to an overgrown part of the woods and just let her absorb herself in all the life there.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” Mace told her. “Good luck on your next mission.” He was a little sorry to hear they were leaving already, though. He would have liked to have dined with Adi. He was fairly sure Padmé was far more sorry.

“It really is remarkable of her to have progressed as far as she has in such a short time,” said Padmé as they left the garden and headed for the Refectory. “Even if she still isn’t as strong as most of us. She might even eventually be stronger.”

“I know,” he said, aware that she still worried he wouldn’t. This was the way she now continually pushed him, trying to encourage him to have more empathy and be less harsh; it seemed her eighteenth nameday a few months back had unleashed her confidence, especially as it had become time to seriously consider when she would be ready for the Trials. He didn’t think she would be for at least another year or so, but it would not be too many years.

It was all a strange reversal from only a few years back, when she had been a submissive, overeager to please Padawan who wished only to emulate him, even to the detriment of her own natural skills being developed. He was lucky Qui-Gon had been there to identify that problem and tell it to him. Before then he'd only known something was wrong; he would never have figured out what if it hadn't been for his old friend. It wasn’t a problem Masters thought of; Qui-Gon himself had probably only recognized it because he’d had the same one with Obi-Wan Kenobi. It hadn’t been an easy problem to correct, either. He’d been lucky enough to be aided by her own strong will and smarts; she had come to the realization she didn’t need to be exactly like him on her own, but he’d had to make sure she didn’t then doubt that fact. (His being the object of her first mature sexual feelings hadn’t helped matters either, but thankfully that had passed within a year or so without any harm being done).

It was the little things now that gave him encouragement. Like how instead of entering the Refectory behind him like she had once always done, because it was the busiest time of the day she darted in ahead, and he heard her call greetings to more than one fellow Padawan. She was still looking around as he stepped in behind her, but then she shook her head. “Younglings aren’t here yet,” she said. It made sense she’d look for them; she always helped him whenever her taught the Initiates classes, and they liked her more than him.

Except ultimately, after they had gotten their food, and Padmé had said hello to a few more people and congratulated one newly-made Padawan, it was a call of “Master Windu! Will you and Padawan Naberrie come join me?” that led them to sit down with Obi-Wan Kenobi. They were both made glad by that; it had been four months since they’d last seen him, and it was good to do so again.

“Good evening, Knight Kenobi,” said Mace as they sat down. “Your Padawan is not here?”

“No,” said Obi-Wan. “Tru’s lessons went over, and I couldn’t wait for him tonight; the Council wants to see me for some reason.”

“We do?” Mace asked, surprised. “I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“It was Master Yoda who found me and told me,” said Obi-Wan, who actually didn’t seem surprised at all. “Maybe it was just him? Although that’s not really like him.”

They fell silent for a moment, both men contemplating the oddness of the whole thing. It was true that Master Yoda would sometimes make a plan with only a small part of the Council and then present it to the rest of them later, but it was rare that Mace himself was not one of the ones making such plans with him. The only reason he could see that Yoda wouldn’t was if it involved Mace himself somehow, or possibly Depa or Padmé.

When it didn’t look like that conversation was going to immediately resume, Padmé asked, “Have you seen Master Jinn lately?”

“A few weeks ago,” said Obi-Wan, smiling, because he was quick to realize what Padmé was really asking about. “He and Anakin were about to head for Sopertlia. I think they actually might be back from that mission within a day or so. The bombing of the royal palace I’m sure you’ve heard about already keep them there longer than planned, of course, but since the likely culprit is far away from Sopertlia now and the negotiations are officially concluded, there’s not much more reason for them to linger. Anakin was looking good. He’s grown a few more inches again, and he did a remarkable High-Loosi Kata. Not doing so well at the Ataru style of lightsaber combat, though; Qui-Gon is thinking he might switch him to Shien, especially with how tall he’s getting.”

“The aggressive type,” said Mace, even though they all knew that, because he thought Padmé could do with hearing that said out loud.

“It does seem to be how he prefers to do things,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I’ve heard Tru say he’s-Qui-Gon!”

Mace and Padmé both whirled around in astonishment, and saw that it was indeed him and Anakin both entering the Refectory. They were still in their traveling cloaks, and Qui-Gon’s hair looked a touch disheveled; Mace suspected they’d probably gotten off the transport, handed anything they were carrying to a droid, and come straight here. Which wasn’t what they usually did; Qui-Gon had always liked to take his time doing things. Were they headed straight out again? Was this only a brief unexpected drop in?

Padmé at least restrained herself from greeting Anakin with more than a wave, which he returned, but that was a bigger smile on her face than he’d seen in at least a month. She didn’t need to call them over anyway; Obi-Wan did that for her, even getting out of his chair, and getting a hug from his old Master, who of course was going to give him one. Anakin, to his credit, looked a little embarrassed about that, but he was at the age where most Padawans would be. It didn’t stop him from giving Padmé a little hug, either, when he pulled up a chair next to her, but it wasn’t the full on glomp of his Master’s, just a modest placement of arms.

“You were not supposed to be back yet,” Obi-Wan was protesting, but he was laughing as he said it. Except Qui-Gon didn’t return that, or even smile, and that was when Mace noticed he wasn’t smiling. He glanced over at Anakin, who was, hugging done but head still close with Padmé’s as they chattered away at each other, so it likely wasn’t what they’d just come from.

“We ended up on a faster transport home,” said Qui-Gon. “And good thing too. We barely stepped into the Temple when Master Mundi accosted us and told us we are both summoned to stand before the Council. 1900 hours. We’ll barely have time to eat-”

“1900 hours?” asked an astonished Obi-Wan. “But I’ve been summoned to the Council at the exact same time!”

“Well, then,” said Qui-Gon, who did not seem very surprised to hear this. “This really is quite an affair, because I was also told, Master Windu, that if I was to run into you in the Refectory, I was to tell you to bring Padawan Naberrie with you to the Council tonight.”

“What? Really?” This attracted the attention of the two Padawans. Then, as the realization of what all four of them as well as he himself had in common hit him, Mace saw Padmé look over the other three, and then meet his eyes, and he knew her sharp mind too had hit on it, even before she said, “Ani, you’ll be thirteen in another week, won’t you? Master Windu…” She didn’t ask the question, but there was an accusatory tone to her voice that asked it for her.

She was eighteen now, and even if this wasn’t what Mace thought it was, maybe it was time she and Obi-Wan both got involved in the discussions, because the time would come soon, in any case. “I think it possible, Padawan,” he said, “that it may be time to face one of the most serious things we may all face in our lives, aside from the attack on the Temple we lived through half a decade back.”

“No.” Qui-Gon spoke the protest very softly, which did nothing to decrease the intensity of it. “Surely not yet. He still is not even thirteen for four more days!”

“Maybe this is just a preliminary discussion,” said Padmé. “Surely they aren’t planning…not this soon…these things always take a while to plan anyway, don’t they?” She looked to her Master as she said this, though he sensed no uncertainty from her; she knew what she knew.

“They do,” he confirmed. But still, he knew things she was still too young to know, about how dire circumstances could be, or could get, and how sometimes even the Jedi would, out of need, or perceived need, push to get things done before what some thought the right time would be. These were things he feared she would learn very soon.

“Why are you all talking over my head??” Anakin demanded loudly. “What’s going on? Padmé, what are you all talking about? Will you at least talk to me? If your Master doesn’t forbid you to anyway?” Although from the glare he directed to Mace, he already expected him too.

It was a good thing Mace didn’t mind meeting his expectations. “Wait at least until after tonight,” he said. “I think we’ll probably be willing to talk to you soon, Padawan Skywalker, but we should at least wait for this Council meeting first.”

“Come, Anakin,” said Qui-Gon, who had finally separated from Obi-Wan. “We’d best go get our trays right now if we wish to eat tonight.”

Thirteen was an age for most humans where such a point would carry the day, especially if the two of them had missed a meal. But even as he dutifully followed his Master, behind and to the left, nice as one would wish, Anakin continually looked back at their table, even after Padmé, at a jerk from her Master’s head, turned away towards her tray; in fact, that seemed to just make him look harder. Mace feared this would be a long lastmeal.

#### 1900 Hours

Qui-Gon and Anakin had gotten a notification while they ate that their things had been deposited at their quarters. Anakin had reiterated to Padmé his wish to show her his new lantern, and Qui-Gon hoped he’d get a chance to. He thought she’d appreciate it, and that would help Anakin appreciate it a lot more as well.

The five of them left the Refectory and headed straight for the Council Chamber together. Qui-Gon and Anakin were still in their traveling cloaks. They had taken them off while eating, but Qui-Gon had made a point of redonning his when he’d stood up, knowing his Padawan would then do the same. He wasn’t sure if it really mattered that much, especially since the meal and the company had rejuvenated him well, and eating heartily plus being with Padmé was the best combination to do the same for Anakin. But they were still being dragged into this literally right after getting back from a lengthy and surprisingly difficult mission, and he wanted the Council reminded of that.

Although he was still finding it hard to believe that this meeting was really over what Mace, and his young Padawan with him, and even Obi-Wan all seemed to think it was over. He knew what the situation was, of course, and far more than even Obi-Wan did, let alone Padmé. He knew the Council had been discussing it a lot, more and more this past month. He’d long since realized what they were going to do, sooner or later, and resigned himself to that part. But that they would want to do it now…well, he was the boy’s Master, and he wasn’t sure he would even allow that.

He was glad to see the full Council assembled; he’d worried they might try to force this with an abbreviated one. All of them except Mace had arrived already. Qui-Gon did feel some strength in walking to the center of the Chamber with Anakin on one side and Obi-Wan on the other. There was a moment’s pause, while everyone looked at Mace and Padmé, and she looked between her Master and the three of them.

Then Mace said, “This involves me as well as the four of them, doesn’t it?”

He met the eyes of Depa Billaba, and she nodded, and said, “Yes, it does.” Qui-Gon’s heart sank as her grim tone.

“Very well, then,” said Mace, and walked to stand by Obi-Wan, Padmé shuffling into place at the far end of the group.

“Five of you here, there are, then,” said Master Yoda. “Remember, you, six years ago, what happened with you five?”

“Darth Maul,” said Mace, giving away his name, Qui-Gon noted, because Obi-Wan had known it, but the two Padawans hadn’t. “The Zabrak Sith Lord who attacked us on Polsing. We believe we were the only five Jedi to have any direct contact with him. He broke into the Infirmary with Padawans Naberrie and Skywalker and myself present, and battled me, and also Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi when they arrived on the scene. When he realized he was outmatched, he swore revenge on all five of us and fled.”

“And since then,” said Master Gallia, “we have seen more of him. This last year, especially, he has turned up nearly every month, causing death and destruction across the galaxy, and especially multiple Jedi deaths. This year alone, he has killed nearly a hundred of us so far.”

“We cannot go on like that,” said Master Mundi. “Our numbers aren’t growing back, they’re only shrinking further. Even before all this happened, parents in the modern day weren’t as willing to give up their Force-sensitive children to the Order as they were in old times, and now, with it being known how many of us are being killed, they are even more reluctant.”

“Nearly wiped out once, we were,” said Master Yaddle. “Happen again, that cannot.”

“And what have you done to stop it?” Qui-Gon demanded.

“Teams, we have sent,” said Master Yoda. “Ten Jedi at once, to find and destroy him. To find him, they have never been able to. Too clever, he is. Gone, he is, at any place they come to.”

“And you want to use us to lure him out, then,” said Mace. “Make for a fight he won’t run away from. Like we discussed a long time ago, when Skywalker was far too young for it.”

“He’s still too young now,” said Qui-Gon.

“Is he, Qui-Gon?” Mace asked softly. “Once, I think he might have been. But our lives and our missions are more violent more often nowadays, and Padawans grow up a lot faster than they used to. I read about the work he did during the one you two had just now.”

“But, Master,” his Padawan protested. “There’s a different between that and the Sith.”

“Face the Sith directly, he may not have to,” said Yoda.

“The point is to get him where we want him,” said Master Billaba. “You certainly won’t meet him alone. We’ll bring all the backup we can spare. We might even have a separate attack team.”

“Although you do know, Master,” said Obi-Wan, “you and Master Windu would be of the Jedi best able to battle with him.”

“Do you think it will really be that simple?” Qui-Gon sighed. “You know what he said to us. And given how much he’s always known where and how to strike, and avoided those of us who've searched for him…his attunement to the Force is obviously strong enough that we will not be able to take him by surprise. There is no way you can do this without putting both our Padawans in grave danger. I won’t do that to mine. He’s still only just turned thirteen!”

He could sense their indignation at his defiance, even though it was hardly the first time he’d defied the Council. He returned the sentiment.

He wasn’t sure what anyone would’ve said next, if Anakin himself hadn’t softly said, “We’d have a lot more Jedi killed if we don’t do this, wouldn’t we?”

The boy was thinking of those two times when they’d been Initiates and Padmé had nearly sacrificed herself for the sake of someone else, Qui-Gon was sure of that. He recalled what he himself had said to Anakin over that, about needing to respect her choice to do that. But this was different. “As your Master, Anakin…” he started to say.

“Please,” his Padawan interrupted. “Just let them tell me, please.”

“There will be,” said Master Mundi. “Some of them probably younger than you, Padawan.”

“And remember, too,” said Mace. “If Anakin is the Chosen One…”

“You are not making this decision based on that!”

“On that, no,” Master Yoda said. If he’d been anyone else, Qui-Gon wouldn’t have believed him. “Understand what you are saying, we do. And to find something else we can do, we have tried. Nothing else, there is, and wait any longer, we cannot. This is a decision made on desperation.”

“And have you made it?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Did you hold a Council vote?” added Qui-Gon. “One you didn’t even tell a senior member about?” That wasn’t entirely fair, he knew; Mace would’ve had to recuse himself anyway.

“Just now, yes,” said Yoda, unrepentant. “Agreed, most of us did, that this must be done.”

“Padmé,” said Mace quietly, “Are you willing to do this? Put your life in danger for this?”

“You know she is,” snapped Anakin.

“That is true,” said Padmé. “You know I am.”

“But do you need all five of us?” asked Obi-Wan. “Would the three of us do just as well?”

“We were all three of us together a year ago, remember?” said Mace. “On that mission is was too dangerous to take Padmé and Anakin on, and when Darth Maul was active in the area. He didn’t approach us. It’s too likely he’ll only do it if we have them with us.”

“He might,” said Qui-Gon. “Could we not at least try that first?”

The members of the Council glanced at each other, then Yoda nodded. “Try that first, then, we will.”

“We’re trying to get a rough idea of his location,” said Master Mundi. “We think we might get enough to go on if we gather enough info; we might call you back here in a month. If it doesn’t work, of course, it might get harder to find the Sith again; Maul may go to ground.”

“I’m sure you’ll eventually find him again,” said Obi-Wan, for which Qui-Gon was grateful.

“Settled, then that is,” said Master Yoda. “Master Windu, your seat?”

“Stay with Master Jinn,” Mace said to Padmé as he sat down. “I’ll be coming to your quarters as soon as we’re done here, Master Qui-Gon.”

Obi-Wan came with them too, as they made their way down to the quarters Qui-Gon shared with Anakin. The two Padawans, now free of Master Windu’s efforts to keep them apart, were soon close together again, like they’d been at lastmeal. “Hey,” he grinned at her. “At least we’re working together.”

“Yes, we are,” said Padmé, and could not keep herself from smiling as well.

“It may not go that far,” Qui-Gon reminded them. “You may find yourselves doing nothing more because of this than having another period of time in the Temple without us. And rest assured, Anakin, I will keep you very busy during that time, and I know Master Windu will do the same for Padmé. Just like we did a year ago.”

“He will,” Padmé agreed, but Qui-Gon knew that didn’t stop her from spending as much time with Anakin as they could manage. Which he himself had no problem with at all; he was glad to know she’d be there to look after him in his absence.

“You know,” said Obi-Wan, after a minute where both Padawans had been quiet, apparently lost in thought. “Forgive me, Master, but I think Anakin should get a chance to answer this question, if only just in front of the three of us. What Padmé said she’d be willing to do, Anakin, would you be willing to do the same? Of course the teachings of the Jedi hold that you must be, but…”

“Teachings or no, I am willing to do what we have to do to destroy the Sith,” said Anakin. “I know how bad they are.”

Exactly the response Qui-Gon had known his Padawan would give. “That, by itself,” he said, “is the right answer, Anakin. But remember not to be too reckless and impatient. You may not need to die. And the Jedi Order, right now, cannot afford to lose a Padawan of your potential when the Sith might be defeated without losing him.”

“But am I not the Chosen One, Master?” said Anakin. “The one the prophecy says is supposed to destroy the Sith. I know everyone’s told me not to worry about that, because if it’s right, then it’ll happen anyway, and I haven't been ready yet. But if this is really what I’m supposed to do…”

“That still does not require any reckless action right now,” Qui-Gon insisted. “In fact, you may be destined to destroy them later, when you’ll be more capable. We certainly don’t want you killed now if that’s the case.”

“Listen to him, Ani,” said Padmé, and that got a nod out of Anakin, which made Qui-Gon wonder if maybe she might have influence on his Padawan where he did not.

Most Masters would have been extremely dismayed indeed at that idea. But as Padmé then said, “So tell me more about what you’re learning right now, Ani,” Qui-Gon Jinn instead found himself thinking that perhaps that didn’t have to be a bad thing, not if she was willing to follow his lead on what to do about it. Which she would be, he was sure, unless her Master objected.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have left the two of them to their own devices in his room once they reached their quarters. But he and Obi-Wan had seen too little of each other in recent months, and he was too glad to sit down with him alone and talk with him about how things had been going for them both. They also commed Tru Veld briefly, although he was now eating himself. They both were especially happy about getting the time together after Qui-Gon had given Obi-Wan advice about the next stage in Tru’s training.

An hour and half later Mace arrived, looking a little tired, and asking no questions immediately about where their Padawans were, which indicated the Council session had been an especially grueling one, probably only really getting intense after the four of them had left. Obi-Wan stood up so as to give him the seat nearest to the door, and when he collapsed into it, he said, “We can’t even agree on how to track this guy down, whether to ask the government for help or not, how many scouts to send or what types or where to send them…”

“Well, that gives time, doesn’t it?” said Obi-Wan. “Anakin might be older when we do this after all?”

“The Council is so worried about letting this go on I don’t know if there’s any chance of that being the case,” sighed Mace. “We don't know how this one's going to end at all.”

“That’s probably what they hate about it most,” Qui-Gon couldn’t help but comment. And Mace just nodded, because he couldn’t deny that.

He almost didn’t continue, thinking maybe it would be better to make the proposal when Mace was less drained. But he couldn’t be sure if the three of them would get the chance to meet again before one of them was sent out on another mission. The Council having vague plans for them wouldn’t keep any of them at the Temple; not when the Order’s numbers had gotten so low over the past decade.

“But,” he said, “if the three of us are sent out without our Padawans-and this is something that might or might not end up involving Tru, Obi-Wan, I’m not sure-I know, Mace, that you sometimes have concerns about the closeness of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship, but all the same…what would you think if, while we were gone, we specifically directed the two of them to work together?”

That got Mace to stand back up, and he did not look amenable to the idea. But instead of rejecting it, he simply asked, “What do you think they would be doing together?”


	3. Among the Innocent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a mission, Obi-Wan and Tru find unexpected company.

It was a week later when Obi-Wan and Tru found themselves the first pair involved to be sent out on a mission. It was a pretty typical one, at least in its description. There was a Duke on the planet of Muus in the Outer Rim who had died without having any children or naming a successor, and two cousins were vying for the title. Both claim the law favored them, and the courts would’ve taken longer to settle it than anyone was willing to wait. There was also a possibility the Duke had been murdered. Their job was to settle to everyone’s satisfaction how he had died and who should succeed him. The Senate had apparently impressed onto the Jedi Council their wish that the Duke had died of natural causes, though at least he hadn’t been powerful enough for them to care who succeeded him.

The communications that came to them during the voyage didn’t seem that remarkable either. Though young Tru was shocked when the young rival, D’li Sert, accused the older one, Yusi Sert, of possibly being responsible for the hovercrash that had killed a Rian Mopi who would otherwise have probably been the next Duke. “That was over a year ago, wasn't it? Do you think it’s true?” he asked his Master.

“Impossible to tell right now,” Obi-Wan told him. “Not before we meet these people, at the very least.” Although he in fact was gathering a lot more information about everyone involved, far more than they imagined they were giving. The picture it was painting wasn’t one he was looking forward to being in.

When they weren’t reading the messages of the two men and their various relations(the family seemed pretty evenly split between whose side they were on), Obi-Wan had Tru studying the history of the planet. It had been colonized only a few thousand years ago. Technically there was a government that had control over the whole world, but in practice it was weak, and did little more than handle whatever interstellar matters simply could not be dealt with by the individual nations, which might have been the biggest problem everyone involved had. Of those twenty-one nations, Hallio, where the Duke had been an important person, was the third-biggest and second-wealthiest.

They were five hours out when Tru sighed, looked up from his readings, and said, “How many lies is this planet going to tell? Do we really have to pretend to believe all of them? If we’re supposed to act like the global government actually is going to play a part in this…”

“They will think they have,” said Obi-Wan. “Men who rise high in such an organization are good at deluding themselves about that. We won’t even necessarily have to do anything, especially if either, or, more likely, both of these Serts try to get a vouch from them and do the job for us.”

“But if they don’t, will you tell me to tell them direct lies?”

“If we have to.”

He was a little surprised by how shocked Tru looked at that. “You know,” he said, “when I was your age, I genuinely believed the ugliest missions were the ones where one had to break out the lightsaber and be violent, or at least threaten to. Which, remember, might also happen here; I’ve lost count of the number of times negotiations have turned aggressive. But in truth, things like this, where everyone is after power, and everyone is corrupt, and everyone thinks the universe of themselves? Sometimes the ugliest missions are the ones where your lightsaber stays strapped to your belt, Tru.”

When Tru sighed, and looked back down at his reading, though, he added, “It might not be as bad as it looks like at the moment, though. Very often I’ve come to a planet seriously worried about whether I can get things done without anyone trying to kill anyone else, and found that once they are sat down in a room and gotten to talk sensible, the negotiating sides find themselves not so far apart as they thought.”

“But that’s not going to work here,” said Tru. “Isn’t this a situation where the winner takes it all?”

“Not necessarily,” said Obi-Wan. “The law says so, yes, but informally we can see to it that even the cousin who doesn’t get the title doesn’t walk away empty-handed either.”

“Is that legal?” Tru demanded, his earlier shock returning.

It was not, but Obi-Wan had the feeling he shouldn’t tell his apprentice that outright. Instead he said, “Tru, you have to understand, we are here to do good in the galaxy. Or to serve the Force; I know a lot of Masters would tell you that, including my own, but for my own part, I have always seen that a secondary. Of course the ends do not necessarily justify the means, and even more importantly, whenever you take an action that some might view as dubious, you must think carefully about all the possible ends, because they might not be what you planned for. But you simply cannot assume the law is always right-that is a basic fact that at your age you ought to understand already, and nor can you assume that you may always follow it without worry.”

Tru was silent for some time, then, until Obi-Wan though he might not yet make further comment on it. But then he said, “I’ve had an image of you. I suppose I shouldn’t have had it, that is was a bad idea to make the assumptions I made…”

“Mistakes are what you learn from,” said Obi-Wan. “There is no need to be ashamed of them. And believe me, Padawan, I wish I could be what you thought me to be. When I was your age, I thought I would be.”

At that, Tru put his reading down, and moved over and pulled his Master into a hug. “I’m sorry for that, Master,” he said. Obi-Wan felt himself be moved, maybe even more so by the unexpectedness of it.

When he pulled away, he asked, even more sadly, “We don’t have much control over who we’re going to be, do we? I mean, we choose to be Jedi, kind of, but after that it’s all the will of the Force, isn’t it? And often the will of others whose actions we have to deal with. Like here, especially if that poor Duke was murdered. Except…I don’t think even most people who aren’t Jedi get to control their circumstances much, do they?”

“No, Padawan,” said Obi-Wan, and wondered if he should tell Tru how he himself had never thought that before, but how he knew him to be right, that while he had been teaching him an important truth, he had brought his Master’s attention to another important one, and one he wouldn’t forget. Not yet, he decided. Tru would understand all of that when he was older.

 

####  **About Six Hours Later**

 

It was evening in Bread when their escort’s speeder pulled up to the inn they had been given a room in. It was a cozy-looking place called Sidestay, made of tiny pale-green stones, with a widespread roof whose shade Obi-Wan thought had to be very welcome during the city’s hot midday. “Will we not meet with anyone else today?” he asked their driver, a young man who had introduced himself as Uppo Yagulski. He did not like this; he had spent the afternoon preparing in anticipation of starting his work that evening, and delays rarely boded well, especially in situations like this one, where the threat of violence was not very far away.

“D’li Sert is not in Bread right now,” Yagulski explained. “He received word two hours ago that his mother is very ill. He managed to get an agreement from Yusi Sert that he would not contact you until you all could sit down for a first discussion together. It is an agreement that he had to have in place, otherwise who knows what fulfilling his duties as a son might have cost him.” Plenty of sneering there, too. At least he hadn’t made any accusations, even veiled, of Yusi Sert poisoning his Aunt.

Which did not stop Obi-Wan from wondering. Of course the old lady might not even have anything wrong with her; it might have all been a fabrication. All too many things were possible.

The innkeeper was a Devaronian. There were few enough offworlders in Bread that Obi-Wan thought that fact to be significant; he might have been selected for his neutrality. But Yagulski knew him; he greeted him first with a fond, “Pazik!” Before Obi-Wan and Tru were introduced, they listened through the two of them exchange news about their parents, and learned that Yagulski’s lived in the neighboring city of Polli, where Ummi Pazik had lived for a few years before he had come to Bread and purchased Sidestay from its previous owner. “I’ve never seen any Jedi before,” he said to Obi-Wan, and he both sounded and felt genuinely fascinated.

Lastmeal was offered both in the main room downstairs or to be ordered there and then brought up to the rooms. Obi-Wan ordered them both bowls of the day’s soup, a combination of local vegetables, and instructed it to be brought up. They took their leave of Yagulski then, who spoke of possibly being the one to fetch them if D’li Sert returned the following day (Obi-Wan did not like hearing that new _if_ ), and Pazik himself led them to their room.

Much to Obi-Wan’s relief the room contained nothing unusual; it was modestly sized, just big enough to comfortably hold the two beds and sets of closets and tables, as well as a holoprojector, a tiny rug with a floral image, and a strange metal contraption that Pazik told them would make them a tasty and energizing breakfast the next day if they wanted it. He did think they kept the rooms colder than necessary, but suspected telling the innkeeper so would generate more fuss than was worth it.

They had napped just before landing, which left Obi-Wan awake and alert. Tru, on the other hand, looked at his bed like he might like to crawl into it without eating anything first; he slept a lot. He considered trying to keep his Padawan awake with katas or conversation, but he wanted to do some meditation, and the anticipation of the quick arrival of food might keep him awake anyway. There was a narrow strip of floor between one of the beds and the windows, and when Obi-Wan knelt down there, while his feet touched the bed and his knees nearly touched the wall, he fit, and he liked the way he could feel the setting sun on his face.

Eyes closed, he focused on that, on the energy the planet’s star was providing, the life it was giving to the soil and everything above it. It was something Qui-Gon had often tried to get him to appreciate about stars and their planets, but he had only begun to do so after he had been knighted and been on his own. He became absorbed in it now, though, in the Living Force he perhaps did not pay attention to as much as he ought, but he was determined that was one flaw he would not pass on to Tru. From the life of the soil and the things that grew out of it, he moved on, letting himself feel the presence of all the animals and other living beings around him, all the people, including all the ones crowded in the inn…

There was something wrong; there was darkness near them. Obi-Wan zeroed in on it; one of the people downstairs. Breaking his meditation he pulled himself up, called out “Tru,” to his Padawan, who had been on the bed with his eyes closed.

But when he sat up, Obi-Wan could tell exactly when he had sensed it too. “What’s down there?” he asked. “Can you tell?”

It had felt vaguely familiar. Obi-Wan focused on it again…and then he recognized it, and there was no Jedi training that could have stopped the hard wave of fear that hit him then. _It can’t be…_

But it was, and meanwhile he was fairly certain the inn had only one entrance, and there was no way they could get to it, and while it was possible the two of them were strong enough to fight past he whom Obi-Wan was sure had come there for them, he didn’t want to take that chance if he didn’t have to.

 _We ought to lead him away from here anyway,_ he thought, _take him somewhere there’ll be no one for him to hurt besides us._ “We need to get out of here,” he said. He looked out the window, and unfortunately the floors were high and the streets crowded, but they had no other option, so he flung them open. “Just think of yourself as doing the jumping exercises back in the Temple, and try not to land on anyone.”

Tru opened his mouth, and Obi-Wan feared a protest, when suddenly downstairs they heard a scream. “He isn’t waiting to kill people,” he said; that required a change of plan. “That means we can’t get out of here until we know we’re taking him with us. Come on, sabers out.”

Tru didn’t look any happier about that, but he didn’t protest, not when they heard another scream and the sound of things crashing. Sabers out they charged out into the hall and then down the stairs. Sure enough, there was Darth Maul, multiple corpses at his feet, others fleeing. Two red blades extended from his hand. Obi-Wan sensed the ugly excitement when he saw him; it felt like a slap to the face.

He turned his attention toward Obi-Wan and Tru, and Obi-Wan said softly to him, “It’s me he wants, not you. Not that he wouldn’t kill you if he could do it while still killing me, but if we made him choose between us…”

“No, Master!” Tru hissed fiercely. “I won’t leave you here to die. I don’t know if I could escape without you anyway.”

That second point was good enough a one; once his Master was dead, Tru would have to get to the spaceport and off the planet as fast as possible; he’d probably have to steal something. Plus sacrificing himself would leave the planet’s populace completely vulnerable to the Sith Lord, who might not go directly after Tru. That was why Obi-Wan said, “Very well, then. We take him together. Open yourself up to the Force like never before.”

That was all the instruction he had time for before Maul lost his patience and leapt at them.

From the start they were too much off balance. Obi-Wan leapt to the top of the staircase and Tru followed, and they tried to hold against the Sith, but his blades flew so fast it was all they could do to keep them at bay, never having a moment to think of anything else. Tru didn’t even know fully how to make use of their high ground advantage. He was completely tuned into the Force, at least, and through it he could anticipate and respond to the movements of his Master, but he was doing too little on his own.

It was only a matter of time before Darth Maul pushed them away from the top of the stairs and battled them down the corridor they had just come down. By then Obi-Wan was starting to seriously think the best either of them could hope for was to take this monster down with them. He was as relentless as any foe Obi-Wan had ever faced. Tru was starting to lose just a smidgen of speed with his lightsaber, to become just a touch unsteady as they stepped back, and he felt their opponent’s glee as he realized this.

But then downstairs, they heard yells and the sound of many boots running. “Where is he?!” It was the angry voice of the innkeeper. “I can hear those laser sword blades; he’s still here! Oh no, upstairs-how many people do we have up there?”

However many there were, Obi-Wan just hoped they remained cowering in their rooms, and none of them tried to step outside just now. The hapless city guards now running up the stairs and having no idea what they were in for were going to be bad enough.

There were a lot of them, and they all came up blasters firing. “Duck!” Obi-Wan yelled at Tru. “Lightsaber over your heard; get the bolts into the ceiling!” It was no use trying to get them to hit Maul; he was already somersaulting through the air and coming straight at the new arrivals. Obi-Wan felt his heart clench in grief for the three men at the front; though he tried to push them back and out of the way of Maul’s blades, two of them still fell dead hit by their own blasts, and the third was sliced through before he and Tru could catch up with the Sith Lord.

More than just those two had been hit by redirected blaster fire. Of those remaining, half of them fired again as the two Jedi again engaged their enemy. Maul’s lightsaber flew every which way to deflect the attack from both sides. But a single bolt somehow got through, and hit him below the shoulder.

It didn’t have that much effect on him; only a slight stumble, and he’d been wielding the lightsaber with his other arm. Still it gave Obi-Wan just a little hope. “Get out of here!” he yelled at the guards. “You’re going to get yourselves all killed!”

Most of them were quick enough to obey, but a handful continued to stay. At least it kept Maul distracted enough it allowed Obi-Wan to maneuver himself in and force his opponent to defend his injured side. It was Maul on the retreat now. If he could just get him back to the stairs, Obi-Wan thought, and then far enough down them. The men down there would still have their blasters out, and some of them would probably fire again. The distraction when he was trying to fight upward might just be enough.

Then another bolt got him, possibly the last one before the last of the guards fell to the ground in two pieces, hitting him in the leg. Obi-Wan forced himself to remain calm, while Tru was generating too much excitement. They might put an end to this creature right now. Qui-Gon and Master Windu wouldn’t have to put their Padawans anywhere near this kind of danger…

But with only the two of them to fight again, Maul suddenly seemed to recover completely, getting at them with his blade faster than they could respond. Before Obi-Wan knew it they were being pushed back away from the stairs again. Even if he was getting slower, so was Tru, and even more now, the earlier excitement and hope of their victory clearly hurting him as it was all dashed.

Down below Pazik was shouting at the guards, ordering them to go back up there. He heard the head of them respond, and it sounded like they were literally just below the floor. One last crazy idea occurred to him.

“Tru, make a hole in the floor,” he ordered. Tru obeyed without question, turning his lightsaber down and carving it out as Obi-Wan struggled to hold Maul off on his own, tried to keep him at bay for just the few minutes they needed. The hole was nearly finished when Maul got enough through his defenses for his blade to knick Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

It was his left shoulder; he still held and wielded his blade without so much as a flinch. But the pain was so terrible it was hard to think, and his good arm moved with less coordination; he nearly got hit much more fatally twice before Tru yelled in triumph; the hole was complete.

“We’re coming down there!” he yelled through it before jumping, grabbing Tru’s arm and pulling him with him. Thankfully the guards held their fire, and he landed smoothly on his feet below, even as Tru thumped more loudly beside him, ignoring the gasps of astonishment, and said, softly as he could while still being heard, “Shoot the minute you see his shadow.”

But there was no shadow up above, no sign of Maul coming after them. Half the guards aimed their blasters at the hole and the other half at the stairs, but he came down neither.

Instead, he heard someone say, “Sir, your apprentice.”

He looked over just in time to see Tru slide from where he had been on his knees, down to the floor completely. They he saw on the round exit wound on his back.

He was feeling it happening now even as he moved, flipping Tru’s body over even as he felt the life fast flying out of it. He met his Padawan’s eyes just in time to see the light leave them, as around them Tru faded into the Force, leaving behind only a sad smile on his face and a hand feebly pulled up to where Maul’s blade had ran him through. The other was still holding his lightsaber; pointed in such a position it would have shielded his chest had it been on; he must have deactivated it a moment too early, just before they'd gone through the hole. It had probably been a wild jab from Maul, hitting possibly more by luck than anything else.

Above them they could hear more noises, the sound of something crashing, but no sounds of distress from anyone. Obi-Wan forced himself to leave Tru’s corpse to run back upstairs, ignoring the shouts of those around him, and even the two city guards that followed him up, until all three stood there, staring at a newly carved hole in the ceiling. Darth Maul had flown away again.

 

####  **The Following Evening**

 

By the time Tru Veld’s pyre was lit by Beard’s ancient graveyard just outside the city, a few things had become apparent. Such as that Darth Maul was no longer anywhere near them. Obi-Wan thought now he would know it were he anywhere on the continent. The other was that he himself would’ve be staying there much longer either, possibly a few more days simply to attend as many of the city guard funerals as he could manage. It had been realized that the Sith Lord had specifically been after Obi-Wan himself, D’li Sert had made clear he didn’t want Obi-Wan anywhere near him, and Yusi Sert had more or less agreed.

He thought the two of them both felt guilty over it, though. It probably had a lot to do with the reason why they both showed up for the ceremony, standing pretty far away from each other. They had even agreed to split whatever fees needed to be paid so Pazik could have a whole and functioning inn once again without the Jedi Order getting any demands put upon their own money.

It was hard, watching the face of his Padawan be consumed by the fire. But he knew this wasn’t the hardest part. That was still to come, during this next week, when he would be flying home, and Tru wouldn’t be there with him. It would be when he gave his report to the Jedi Council, and it was a safe bet he would be called to talk to them in person, and he would have to explain how the choices he had made during the fight had caused Tru to get killed in a moment of carelessness. Then would be the worst of all, the beginning of his next mission, where, unless he got a new apprentice immediately, and he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t, he would go out all alone.

If he was sent out on a next mission anytime soon, anyway. It was possible he wouldn’t be. If Darth Maul was now likely to go after any of the five of them sent out on their own, it was even possible none of them would be sent anywhere except for after him. Certainly less people would want him, or Qui-Gon, despite their good reputations.

He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Anakin again either. He knew he and Tru had been friends from the time they’d Initiates, and since he’d taken Tru as his Padawan the two of them had been making efforts to see each other even on those rare occasions he and Qui-Gon had both been in the Temple and hadn’t paid each other any visits. He was aware, too, that Anakin was far too judgmental for a Padawan his age, and that Qui-Gon was doing his best but seemed unable to fully change that, and that he would completely hold Obi-Wan responsible for Tru's death.

He was right to, of course.

The issues he had come to Muus to help resolve were far away from him as he watched his Padawan turn into ashes. Except that, when the fire had burned for about an hour, and the first of the people who had attended the ceremony, including both Pazik and a still crying Uppo Yagulski, had given him a last farewell and then departed, Yusi Sert sidled through the thinned group of watchers until he was next to him, and said, “I hope you understand why we can’t keep you here, Master Jedi. It’s not because we think any less of you and your skills.”

“I understand perfectly,” he said, and he certainly did. He even believed the man talking to him to be sincere.

“Good, then,” he said, “there is just one thing I want to know, though.”

“And what is that?”

“Well,” he said, “I know you haven’t been around D’li much during this mission, and he might not be talking to you at all now. But I also know he’s agreed to get another third party negotiating things, and why he wanted that one in particular…”

All the sadness and confusion with which he spoke were genuine, even as he said, “Do you think I should trust to his choice? To this friend of your old Master’s? Her title sounds very professional, but given this Arbitration Organization was only founded about two years ago…”

Obi-Wan found himself honestly thinking about it. Alveeta had been one of those people who Qui-Gon had simply always been friends with, where how he’d become friends with her had never been explained, at least not to Obi-Wan. He and Qui-Gon had watched her found her new organization and read her words, which hadn’t really attempted to hide that she was taking advantage of the Jedi now being spread so thin. But she had always struck him as a very intelligent person, and he knew she was not dishonest.

And then, when he forced his haze of grief away long enough to recall his meeting with D’li Sert from that afternoon, where he had informed Obi-Wan of his intentions, he found he did have an observation to make when it formed itself in his head. But before he shared it, he carefully opened himself further to the Force around the older cousin, and asked, “Are you afraid she will enter this inclined to believe his side of the story? Maybe even his accusation against you about the old Duke’s death?”

“Yes,” breathed Yusi, and the emotions Obi-Wan sensed from him gave him a clear picture.

“He genuinely believes the accusations he’s making, I’m afraid,” the Jedi said to him. “But they aren’t true, are they?”

“He does?” was Yusi’s response to that.

“He does,” he said, and hoped he could do some good here, by removing at least some of these two men’s suspicions of each other. “But I think it likely Alveeta won’t without some real evidence of it. If D’li is willing to hear me say anything at all before I leave, I’ll tell him I believe you did not kill the Duke, or anyone else. I think he’d believe me.” He genuinely did think that too.

“Thank you, then,” said the other man, although Obi-Wan didn’t sense much hope from him then.

He did get the chance, after Yusi Sert had left and the pyre was nearly burned down to ashes. D’li Sert came up to him to offer condolences, and he said, “Your cousin did not murder the Duke, or Rian Mopi. I am certain of that.”

“If you say so,” said the other man, but Obi-Wan sensed his words did have some weight with him. He had to hope it would be enough; he already knew he would be able to do no more here. “I am deeply sorry for the death of your young apprentice.” That was much less sincere, but Obi-Wan did not care about that. If anything, it made things easier for him.

Because now everyone leaving was going to want to say similar things to him, and he needed to be polite and not break in front of any of them. They would not think anything, at least, of him being the last to leave. They had probably seen his coldness today, and had no idea of why he needed to stay out here until he was safely alone, in the sights of no one he had to impress and on a planet where the enemy was not.

They would have been stunned, all of them, had they been there when finally, two hours later, Obi-Wan Kenobi collapsed to the ground, surrounded by the windblown ashes of his late Padawan learner, and howled out the grief that simply could not have been released any other way.


	4. The First Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin struggles to cope with losing Tru while his elders continue to plan.

It had been three years since Anakin had last set foot in the Water Garden. He wasn’t sure why he went there now. In that hour since Knight Kenobi had come in, announced Tru’s death, and pulled Master Jinn behind closed doors, he had first tried to wait, found he couldn’t stand to just sit there, and walked out in the corridors with no real destination in mind, until he had come here.

Maybe he'd hoped somewhere else would be there: Padmé, or Ellé, or Darra. But the place was completely empty. When Anakin had first been taken as a Padawan, that would’ve been remarkable, but it wasn’t now. He sat alone on the shores of the Shallow Pool, then took his boots off and let his feet dip into the water, because he knew now plenty of Jedi did that, and the life in the pool survived it. He wished his strongest memory of Tru by that pool hadn’t been the part where they’d argued.

He’d brought a wrist comm with him, which buzzed. Bracing himself for what he now had to face down, he turned it on, “Master Jinn?”

But the voice which answered instead was Master Windu’s. “Where have you gotten to, Padawan Skywalker?”

“The Water Garden,” he said. He considered apologizing. If it had been Master Jinn on the comm, he would have. But he didn’t want to apologize to Master Windu.

Even when his heard his own Master’s voice next, gentle as it said, “Of course. Stay there; Master Windu and I will come to you.”

That meant he wasn’t going to see Padmé that day, Anakin feared. Which made him aware of how badly he wanted to, how much that was one of the few things he knew would make him feel a little better. He supposed Master Windu hoped he’d regret running out and losing his chance to meet with her, but he wasn’t going to assume he’d even brought her with him anyway. He was more sorry he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk with Knight Kenobi either.

He wondered if Master Windu realized just how far away he still was when Anakin could sense him approaching. Of course he would’ve been able to tell anyway, since Master Jinn was with him. He pulled his feet out of the pool, wiped them dry on his cloak as best he could, and then put his boots back on. He didn’t need Master Windu saying anything to him about the whole feet in the water thing.

Master Jinn initially entered the garden alone, leaving Master Windu to wait outside. Anakin was grateful for that. “How is Knight Kenobi?” he asked, because it was proper to ask, and he did want to know.

“How do you expect?” his Master sighed, and even he was visibly shaken and sad, though maybe more for his former Padawan’s sake than for Tru’s; the two of them were still surprisingly close. “This affects us all very badly, of course. But you have lost friends before, Ani.” Indeed, he had. It fueled his wish to help take down this Sith. “You cannot run away from your grief every time.”

“I’m not,” Anakin protested. “I just…I needed to…” He didn’t even know. Tru had been the closest friend he’d lost yet. In fact, he thought the only person who meant more to him besides his Master was Padmé (oh, stars and galaxies, his soul cringed at that very thought). “I’m sorry I was rude to Knight Kenobi?”

“I think he understood,” said Master Jinn gently, and pulled his Padawan into a hug, which made Anakin feel better, even though he knew he wasn’t off the hook yet. “But you acted without thinking just now. You are lucky this time; Obi-Wan was not hurt or offended, and nor have you caused anyone any real trouble. But this is not the last loss you will suffer. Indeed, I fear our lives will be marred by loss even more than those of Jedi have typically been, even if we do take down Darth Maul. You must learn to deal with them.

Ideally, of course, you would simply rejoice for Tru’s having become one with the Force, and you would neither mourn nor miss him. But few are the Jedi who are able to do that. The rest of us who cannot must learn instead to cope with our grief, and to not let it dictate our behavior to us, for decisions made in grief are rarely rational ones, and cannot be relied upon to be the right ones. They must learn to think before they act. I know this is hard to bear, Anakin, but you must learn how to do it. That is necessary for everyone in the galaxy, and even more so for a Jedi.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said, and, strangely enough, it was Qui-Gon’s soothing voice, more than anything else, that brought several tears to his eyes; he pressed his face into his Master’s tunic and let it take them. “I’ll try to do better.” It would be okay, he thought. So long as he didn’t lose either of the two people most important to him. Anyone else he could deal with.

“Come,” said Master Jinn, already pulling him toward the Rushing Pool. “Wash your face off, and then sit down. I’ll get Master Windu.”

Anakin obeyed, grateful for the chance to clean up before Master Windu saw him. He also took a moment to feel sorry for Padmé. She being who she was, she was probably just as cut up about Tru, even though she hadn’t been nearly as good friends with him as Anakin had been, but he doubted Master Windu would be understanding about it like Qui-Gon. He was tempted to sit on one of the lone rocks, but in the end was a good boy and sat at the table, and made sure not to slouch.

To his surprise, the first thing Master Windu said to him, after his initial greeting was, “I offer you my condolences over the death of Tru Veld, whom I understand was a very good friend to you when you were both Initiates and after.”

“Thank you, Master,” he said. This was probably Padmé’s influence, he thought. Master Jinn kept saying she had some on him, after all.

When both Masters had sat down, Master Jinn said, “As you know, Anakin, I just talked with Obi-Wan, who has only newly returned to the Temple; he’s gone to give his report in right now. We also talked with Master Windu here over the comm. The willingness of Darth Maul to attack Obi-Wan and his Padawan when none of the rest of us were with him makes us think even more we might be able to defeat him without getting you or Padmé involved; if the first attempt fails, we might even petition the Jedi Council for a second.”

“That’s good,” said Anakin, “but, um, aren’t you worried that he only went after Obi-Wan because it was only him and Tru?”

“We have talked over that concern,” said Master Windu. “Indeed, one worry of your Master’s was that Darth Maul might only next come out if his targets were him and you, or possibly myself and Padmé, but of course she’s older and we would both be less ideal targets for him.”

“You’re not going into danger yet,” Master Jinn hastily added. Which Anakin had already figured, but never mind.

“Our plan right now,” said Master Windu, “is first, the Council grounds the five of us for a month, possibly two. Nobody’s going to want Knight Kenobi anyway, and we’ll come up with some excuse for while Master Jinn and I aren’t getting sent out either. We may create for ourselves some endeavor here, perhaps even one the five of us can actually do, so as to make ourselves useful during the time. We can hope this gets the Sith Lord impatient, or at least makes him think of taking the opportunity we will then offer him, out of a belief it may be his only one.

That opportunity will be this: after a suitable amount of time, the Council will send the two of us on a mission; our timing of when we do this may in fact depend on when a suitable one comes up. We may even try to give out the impression you and my Padawan are with us, though of course you won’t be. We will then stage the ship breaking down in a suitable location, and comm for help, possibly for Obi-Wan.”

“All three of you,” grinned Anakin. “Even if he doesn't think we're there, he won’t be able to resist, will he?”

“We hope so,” said Qui-Gon, but he looked grim-faced, and Anakin feared he might be lectured later about his attitude towards this.

 

####  **The Next Morning**

 

Usually when they stayed in the Temple for an extended period of time, Padmé was quite happy. She could spend her days reading and learning and especially helping the Younglings. She sometimes wondered if they’d allow her to spend most of her time in the Temple when she was knighted, though she supposed that wasn’t as possible as it once had been.

But this was different. This was waiting, and as she woke up the morning after Knight Kenobi’s return to the Temple, Padmé was starting to realize she did not like waiting. Especially not when a fellow Padawan, Anakin’s friend, had been murdered, and nobody was able to do anything about it immediately, or even before the person who killed him was more likely than not to kill more people. She was aware that Master Windu was already awake, though she couldn’t tell anything else, which made her think he was probably meditating. She’d do the same herself, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t going to get rid of the itch under her palms.

She wanted to see Anakin. She wanted to see his face, and hug him, and talk to him, and gauge for herself how he was coping with Tru’s death. When she’d asked her Master how he was coping the previous night his only response had been, “Not well,” which really didn’t tell her much. She was sure he wanted to see her even more. But there was no point in even bothering to ask Master Windu if she could take the time out. He was never easy with it when the boy was on his best behavior, and Padmé doubted he had been the previous night. She didn’t even feel comfortable sending him any messages. She hoped he would understand that.

There was one thing in her current schedule that might bring them into company anyway. She was really hoping Master Windu wouldn't takes measures to make sure it didn't. There was always the chance he wasn't even aware of it.

So she lay in her bed, blankets pulled close, and wondered if she could get her shields up enough to safely masturbate, because that might help, or even if Master Windu would say anything if he detected it. She would’ve preferred to sleep more. It was strange how she felt tired, even just after waking up, when there was no logical reason for her to Yet her mind buzzed too much to make going back to sleep a likely prospect.

Then she heard the comm beep in her Master’s room. After a split second of hesitation, she got out of bed and went to the wall to listen in. He’d know, probably, but she didn’t care. Not when this might be about the Sith. Of course, the walls were supposed to be soundproofed, but in the rebuilt parts of the Temple they often weren’t.

“Master Jinn,” she heard him say. “Any particular reason for calling this early?”

“I want to talk to you about this before we get any more orders from the Council,” was Master Jinn’s response. “By the way, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me anything more about what they’re discussing?”

“Not this morning, Master Jinn.” If he’d been anyone else, Padmé would’ve thought he’d be smiling. But the warmth in his voice faded on his next words, “This is about our Padawans, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” said Master Jinn. “We never really came to a resolution on that conversation we had about them after that Council meeting…” _What conversation?!?_

“If you’ve really got an idea, I’m willing to hear it out. Although maybe you should be aware I think Padmé’s listening in on us right now?” That did not surprise or even startle Padmé; there was no way her current feelings weren’t screaming through the Force.

“Good,” said the other Master. “It’ll be easier if one of our Padawans knows about this from here on in. Because the more I think about it, the more I am mystified about how the Sith knew Obi-Wan and Tru were going to be on Muus. The only public announcement we made was that we were sending a Jedi; we said nothing about which one. I asked Obi-Wan last night, and he said he and Tru had contact with no one during the trip besides the people they’d been planning to mediate between. Their channels had basic encryption, which means that while the Sith probably could have decoded them if they’d obtained them, finding them among most the galaxy’s encrypted traffic…it’s not likely they would have managed it unless they’d had at least some idea of where to look first. The only people outside the Temple who knew they were the ones being sent were Chancellor Palpatine, his office, and the sector’s Senator and his office, and I’m not sure the Chancellor would’ve even bothered look at the names for such a local Outer Rim matter.”

As the implications of what he was saying sunk in, Master Windu called through the wall, “Come in here, Padmé. This is turning into a conversation you should participate in outright, if you’re going to be listening at all.”

Still in her sleeping tunic (she hoped Master Jinn wouldn’t mind), she came in, mildly surprised to find her Master was already fully dressed in his day tunic and leggings. She wondered how much he’d slept the previous night, if indeed he’d slept at all. She sat down next to him as he said, “So you believe the Sith may have a spy either somewhere in the government, or...or even in the Temple?” The second possibility sure was a scary one.

“I think it more likely than not. But any of the three of us start looking around, they’ll notice.”

“You think they wouldn’t notice it if our Padawans did it?” Master Windu asked skeptically. “I would think they would just find that more suspicious.”

“Maybe not,” said Padmé, “if it was just Anakin. It wouldn’t the first time he got curious about things that aren’t his business, remember. You arrange for him to ‘accidentally’ wander into some part of the Temple he shouldn’t be in…” But she had to stop there, because this was not an idea she actually liked. If the wrong person came across him there, even if they didn’t get suspicious about his motives, they might go so far as to kill him anyway.

“We’d want to keep you as close to the situation as possible to back him up,” said Master Jinn, which made it sound a little better. “Maybe even ourselves. If we do this while trying to deal with Darth Maul, of course, Master Windu and I wouldn’t be there, but if we did after the two of us left the Temple but before Obi-Wan did…”

“It could still put Padawan Skywalker in considerable danger,” said Master Windu. “And is he even suited to this? He is a little more reckless than he ought to be, we all know that.”

“I can try to get him to be cautious,” said Master Jinn. “I talk about it to him enough, I probably have a good chance of succeeding. And your Padawan actually might have an even better chance than me. You know he likes upsetting her even less than he likes upsetting me.”

“That is true,” said Master Windu, his voice very neutral.

“We have time to discuss it further. The four of us, I think; now that you’re here, Padmé, you might as well stay in; you’re certainly old enough for that.” Master Windu said nothing to this, which meant he agreed. “Obi-Wan probably doesn’t have a set schedule yet. I am free tomorrow afternoon. You two?”

“After lunch we have a sparring session with some of the older Initiates, but after that we have nothing. We will continue this discussion then?”

“Agreed. Force be with you both until then.”

“And you.” The screen blinked off, and her Master said to Padmé, “We will breakfast here today.”

They did that sometimes, keeping some very basic grain foods in their quarters specifically so they could. Usually it meant he wanted to have some serious discussion with her, though; there had been a time where those words had always left her anxious to know what it was she’d done. At least the reason was obvious here.

Or so Padmé thought, until after they had sat down and started eating, and he asked her, “What will you do for the next day and a half?”

Confused by the question, since he’d already set her schedule for most of it, she said, “I’ll be reading up on Coruscanti history for most of this morning, then this afternoon I go to the salles to work with Master Gallia.” That was when she was hoping to see Anakin, since he often worked with her too, but she could wait until he asked her directly before admitting to that. "Before the Council meeting we meditate briefly in the Rock Garden, then I come back here and return to my reading; we’re eating lastmeal late tonight. I was hoping to see Darra before I go to bed tonight.” That had been her idea, but he’d already approved it; nobody ever saw any harm in Darra. “Tomorrow morning we teach the younger Initiates basic history, and then meet with Master Rancisis to further develop the lesson plans there. Then, as you told Master Jinn, after lunch we have the sparring session.”

“How well do you think you will do that, Padmé?” was his next question, and she was getting the feeling she knew where this conversation was going.

“As well as I can,” was what she had to say to start, before getting honest: “But I don’t know how well that’s going to be. Although I can promise you I will be there completely for all the teaching we’re doing tomorrow.”

“That never concerned me,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I can sense a great deal of restlessness in you, and that’s not something I’ve seen in you before. You’ve always seemed to understand that what we should want is quietness and knowledge, even though we choose to lead lives that give us so little of the former.”

“I value peace,” said Padmé. “I don’t feel much of it right now. Without peace, quiet is almost a menace, an arrangement that means suffering is going unheeded.”

“Suffering need not be shouted about from the top of the Temple to be heeded. You know we are doing everything we can about Darth Maul. Can you trust in that?”

Padmé drew in her breath to say yes, but she was suddenly filled with doubt. Having a Master on the Council had left her all too aware of that body’s failings. And if there was even someone there who didn’t even mean well…she didn’t want to believe the spy was there. She had grown to know all of her Master’s colleagues, and she liked them all. If there was a spy among them, how was she to tell who it was? She knew her Master was not it, like she knew she herself was of the light, would have even if it wasn’t for the detail about Darth Maul having targeted him along with the rest of their little quintet, and she had almost as much faith in Master Yoda, but not in any of the others. And yet...

“New thoughts plague you,” said her Master softly, almost as if he could see right into her, at least until he said, “Tell me what troubles you now, Padawan.”

Her first response was a noise of resistance; her suspicions felt too terrible to be expressed. His response to that was to lean himself forward slightly, folding his arms down on the table and resting his upper torso on them. That firm, quietly cutting stare of his, that close to her, broke through like a lightsaber. A minute of it and her thoughts were spilling out,

"...and yet I cannot think but the spy must be on the Council."

He drew back at that, and visibly considered. “It is possible I may be able to eventually identify the spy through the Force, if her or she is indeed on the Council, although he or she would have to be a master at hiding it for none of us to have detected him or her-but perhaps if I am actively looking, it will be different.

But until then, Padmé, remember to keep dark thoughts from your mind as much as possible. Remember especially that fear is of the dark side. That has always been where you have been most vulnerable, and while your fears have often been far more for others than for yourself, now I sense much fear in you, especially for myself, and even more so for Anakin, is that right?” When Padmé nodded while avoiding looking at him, he said, “You understand, Padmé, that I have the greatest respect for your compassion, and I believe many a Master could learn from observing it. But I worry about how much your mind focuses on Anakin. Be careful of your feelings towards him. You cannot let them dictate how you view the rest of the universe, and especially how you behave towards others.”

 _Don’t get angry, don’t get angry, don’t get angry._ It surprised Padmé that she had to think that to herself. But she had never liked these lectures from Master Windu. This had always been the topic where she simply could not agree with him, and she couldn’t help but think he was just turning this conversation to talk about what he wanted to talk about, especially in the face of her and Anakin now to be brought together by duties.

He sensed it, of course. “Please be careful, Padmé,” he urged. “I will not forbid you to see him these next couple of days, at least if you can do so without shirking any of your set tasks. I know you are hoping to see him along with Master Gallia, and indeed, I think his Master may even send him there. I know Master Jinn would be grateful for his having your company. I will not interfere with that. But please, keep what I have just said to you in mind. Also, I will ask you not to breathe a word of any of what the three of us discussed this morning. In fact, I will suggest that if he even brings up the possibility of you two working together, if his own Master has brought that up to him, you change the subject. Ask him about how he is dealing with Padawan Veld’s death; I think,” and here he hesitated, before saying, “I think it will do you both good for him to receive comfort from you over that.”

 

####  **That Afternoon**

 

Her hope came to fruition. Anakin came to work with Master Gallia that afternoon, as did another pair of Padawans. Master Gallia being Master Gallia, initially there wasn’t time for them to do more than hug, and for her to whisper, “I’m so sorry, Ani,” to him, but he looked a bit better after Master Gallia had gestured them apart. After that she kept all four of them busy.

When they were finally dismissed, Padmé’s arms sore, if in a good way, and Anakin looking very tired, she asked him his next destination. On hearing it was the Archives, she said, “Mine’s the Rock Garden. They’re in the same direction. Want to walk together until we reach the Archives?”

“I don’t know how to feel about Tru," Anakin said when they had left the salles behind them. "I mean, I’m sad, obviously, and it hurts, and I can’t make it not hurt, and Master Jinn, at least, seems to think that’s okay, even if it’s not ideal. But…it makes me want to destroy the Sith all the more. That’s not good, is it?”

Most Jedi, including her own Master, would have absolutely said yes. But Padmé found herself saying, “Maybe you could focus on making sure the Sith don’t kill any more of us. That’s what Tru would want, I think. To be the last Jedi who dies at his hands.” Never mind that they weren’t being allowed make that so, but remembering her Master’s instructions, she didn’t take the conversation that way.

“I do like that idea,” said Anakin thoughtfully. “But what if they don’t let us do anything? I know if our Masters kill Darth Maul without us we should just be glad…”

“And you will be,” said Padmé hastily. “Because if nothing else, you know I’ll be safe, right? And believe me, Ani, nothing would make me happier than to know that he won’t be around to come after you, either. It’ll be like the threat to us never existed.”

He smiled at that, but sighed, “But the threat did exist. It existed long enough to kill Tru. And also, what if it kills Master Jinn?”

“I think then Knight Kenobi might take you,” said Padmé. “Even if he didn’t, surely someone else would.”

“That’s not what I meant, Padmé!” he protested, sounding honestly shocked. “I mean, I don’t know how I could deal with it, if he killed him, and he’d be dead, and it would hurt so much, and all I could do then is meditate and hope when I was done I wouldn’t feel angry anymore, and I don’t think I would.

I’m not like you,” he continued, before Padmé could think of what to say to that. “You have such a big heart. I think if anyone killed your Master you’d forgive them, unless they were the Sith, of course, but even then you’d just kill them if it fell to you to do that and not think about them afterwards. Of course you’d still be upset,” he hastily added when she opened her mouth. “You’d probably grieve even more than I would if Master Jinn was killed. But you still wouldn’t be like me, would you? You’re stronger than I am that way.”

“I don’t know that,” she said. “Really, I’m not sure any Padawan knows for sure what they would do, unless their Master is actually killed. Let’s just hope neither of us ever gets the chance to find out.”

She would be angry, though, she thought. Maybe she wouldn’t be taken by the same urge to do something that Anakin was struggling with, especially if she was in the position he was in now, where there was basically nothing to be done. And with time, she knew she could eventually let the anger go. But if he was killed by someone she was not supposed to kill, and she found herself in front of them with lightsaber drawn, and even the tiniest excuse…well, she hoped she never ever got into that particular situation.

The salles and the Archives were pretty close together; they were already coming up on the latter. “Going to see Master Nu today?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” said Anakin. “Maybe if she’s not too busy she’ll find me and say hello. She’s running out of things to tell me about my mother, I think.”

“I see,” she said, and then on impulse she pulled Anakin into a second hug, which he returned, his arms tight around her. “Be strong, Ani,” she urged him. “Please, try to be strong.”


	5. Down to Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Anakin and Padmé's Masters departed, they meet with Obi-Wan.

Anakin didn’t go with Master Jinn to the transport on the day he and Master Windu went out to try to lure Darth Maul into their trap. His Master instead instructed him to stay in their quarters and didn’t really give him an explanation why, which made him think Master Windu hadn’t wanted him there.

He hugged his Padawan after donning his cloak, and said to him, “If I don’t come back from this alive, know I’m so proud of you, Anakin. I know it hasn’t always been easy for you, having this prophecy and your mother’s history hanging over you all of the time…promise me you won’t let my death break you, if it happens. Promise me you’ll be strong, and you’ll keep on, and you won’t do anything reckless. You are the Chosen One, and you will bring balance to the Force. The longer I’ve had you, the more I’ve become convinced of that. Promise me you won’t throw yourself away for my sake, Anakin.”

“I promise,” said Anakin. He had to, of course. He wished he could absolutely sure he would keep that promise. He’d try really hard to.

Master Jinn no doubt sensed all of that, but he only continued, “I also want you to promise you’ll be careful, Ani, in the days to come. This is a dangerous time for all of us, and I want you to heed the danger, even now, while you’re still here in the Temple.”

“Okay, I promise to do that too.” He was tempted to ask Master Jinn if there was any specific reason he was saying this, except he was pretty sure already the answer was yes; he’d been dropping hints. He would tell him outright if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. He just kissed the top of his head, said, “Force be with you and Padmé both, my dear Padawan,” then pulled away. Anakin was left to wonder if the last sight he ever had of Master Jinn would be his cloak nearly getting caught as the door closed.

He had lost his appetite for breakfast. He knew he ought to go eat it anyway, but he could at least wait an hour or so. He didn’t even try to meditate either, just went back to his bed to lay down for a while.

He didn’t get up for some time, until he sensed Padmé approaching. That made him feel a lot better, and he jumped up to get to the door even before the chime sounded.

She gave him the day's second extended hug and kiss to his hair. She didn’t even have to bend down to do it; they were getting very close in height now, and soon he’d be taller than her. “They’ve gone off. No problems with the launch, and while I was walking here I got a notification from Knight Kenobi that they’ve made the jump to hyperspace. He’s now on his way to the refectory to get us all something to eat, then he’s going to come here. The two of us have something very important to tell you.”

“We are going to be doing something here in the Temple while our Masters are away, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.” She didn’t sound surprised at his guessing. “Speaking of which, what exactly has Master Jinn told you?”

“Well, he’s been talking about how maybe you and I should work together on something since before Obi-Wan and Tru got attacked.” He had to pause for a split second there to be sad. He was starting to understand he would never stop that entirely. “Then in the last month he stopped talking about it like that, but started hinting I might have to do something important while he was away. Do you know if Master Windu asked him to not tell me about working with you?”

“Don’t know,” she said. “It’s possible, I suppose, though I think that would’ve been kind of silly of him.” But she didn’t sound nearly as skeptical as that. Then she looked at him oddly, and said, “You know, I kind of expected you to be more excited about this. I mean, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, Ani.”

“A year ago, maybe,” he sighed. “But now I’m old enough to realize how much danger we’re probably going to put ourselves in. You especially, since you’re the older of the two of us, so you’re probably going to be doing more dangerous things than I am. Am I right about all that?”

He eyes went bright then, way too bright. “Yes, and no,” was her response, her voice too tight. “Because yes, we are doing something very dangerous, but oh, Ani, it’s going to be you this time. It’s you we’re sending into the most danger.”

Anakin was honestly shocked. It wasn’t even that this made him upset, or afraid. He hoped no one expected him to be, either, since he’d already made pretty clear more than once he was willing to do whatever it took to destroy the Sith. But after all Master Jinn had said and done, it was hard to believe he would consent to such a thing.

Meanwhile Padmé was now outright crying. Of course she was. Anakin reached up the inch or so he still had to and tried to wipe them away with his sleeve. “It’s all right,” he said to her. “You know I don’t mind. And you’ll do everything you can, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, “I will. I wish I and Knight Kenobi could make sure no one hurts you while we’re doing this.”

But then she pulled away and flopped down in Master Jinn’s usual chair. “I wish you would mind, too.”

“Sorry?” he tried to offer, but he wasn’t, and they both knew it. He sat down in his own normal chair. He supposed Padmé really should’ve sat in the guest chair left out, but if Knight Kenobi didn’t fuss about it he sure wouldn’t. But he did have one question, “Whose idea was it, though? This plan, I mean. Was it my Master or yours?” Had to be Master Windu’s. That Anakin would absolutely believe, even if he still wondered how he got Master Jinn to agree to it.

But his shocks weren’t over for the day, because Padmé hung her head, and said, “Forgive me, Ani. It was mine.”

Before he could hope to form words, she continued, “You’ll be doing a task I knew you’d be most suited for. I…we’ve got more to tell you Anakin, more that might scare even you. I don’t even know how to tell you this, or what’s Master Jinn’s told you…”

“You don’t need me to forgive you,” Anakin had found his words again. “In fact, if you really think there’s something I’m best at, then I’m honored you think highly of me.”

She laughed bitterly. “This isn’t even a case of that. Well, not entirely-there are a few things you’ll be doing you’re definitely better at than me, but…this is kind of a case where you’re most suited because of things you’ve been scolded for in the past.”

That he actually could not help but grin at. “Even better,” he told her. “Now come on, tell me all about this, and why our Masters suddenly need a naughty Padawan instead of a nice one.”

 

####  **That Evening**

 

Thankfully it had been a day where neither he, her, nor Knight Kenobi had been expected anywhere in particular, although that wouldn’t be true tomorrow. Or the day after, except the day after none of them would be expected anywhere in the morning, and well, it was possible that by the afternoon things might be a little different in the Temple, depending on how their planned actions went.

Some of what Padmé and Knight Kenobi had said to him that day had been pretty scary, especially about the possibility of there really being a spy in the Temple, or even on the Council. But for the moment, Anakin was having absolutely no problems with fear. In fact, now that the plan for Padmé was simply that she was going to monitor him and have Knight Kenobi with her for most of the time, he was able to mostly be happy for getting to spend a whole day with her with no Master Windu on Coruscant to breathe down their necks, and they’d get to spend a lot of tomorrow together too. The thing he was saddest about for most of the day, aside from the occasional worry about Master Jinn, was that she didn’t get to be the same way, but was so anxious for him.

Plus, while they ate lunch in his and Master Jinn’s quarters too, for lastmeal Knight Kenobi decided they ought to make an appearance in the refectory, and that was when Padmé started to get outright jumpy. She hovered protectively over Anakin all the way through the corridors, even though they could sense there was no one who was going to cross their paths until they were nearly there. They’d deliberately gone early, so it was a little less crowded, and Anakin looked over the Padawans, particularly hoping to spot either Ellé or Darra; he knew either of them would do Padmé a lot of good.

But instead a prim voice said, “Knight Kenobi,” and Master Dooku rose from his table and waved him over. Anakin knew his Master’s old Master well enough, especially because he was very good friends with Master Nu, and he’d seen him with her more than once. But Padmé had seen very little of him, and now she looked at him warily, as if it had suddenly struck her that he could be the spy, even though he’d already heard her express the belief that day that it had to be someone on the Council, and Master Dooku wasn’t likely to have known it was Knight Kenobi and Tru being sent to Muus either.

Still, when the three of them had gotten their trays they went over to him, although Padmé took Anakin’s hand and led them to the other side of the square table; Knight Kenobi sat down next to the elderly Master, and asked, “How goes it with you? I believe you recently spent an extended period of time on your homeworld?”

“Yes,” he said. “There was an extended dispute between a pair of cities, and they specifically requested me to go and stay the entire time. Although the Council tried to recall me more than once, and might even have succeeded had my ship not been stolen early in my time there. When your ability to get off a planet is dependent on others, they can hold you as long as they like.”

“Your ship was stolen?” Padmé asked it as if it was the most important breaking news in the universe. “How could anyone have managed that?”

“Even the best of us find a determined enough thief getting the better of us on occasion,” he said, which didn’t really sound like him. Maybe, Anakin thought, he’d let it be stolen because he’d wanted to stay on Serenno and solve their problem. Once, he never would have been recalled. Once, the Jedi Order had truly dedicated themselves to be of service to any planet that wanted their help. But that was a luxury they didn’t have anymore, and Anakin had heard Master Jinn talk more than once about how, while the Order did prioritize planets in desperate straits where large numbers of lives would be lost without Jedi intervention, after that they tended to favor planets that were powerful and influential within the Republic. It would have been easy for the people of Serenno to see themselves as unfairly deprived of their Jedi mediator, and for Master Dooku himself to agree with them.

He didn’t know if any of that would occur to Padmé, though. She had, before this past few months, always wanted to believe the best of their elders, and he doubted Master Windu had ever said anything that implied the Jedi Council would prioritize one mission over another due to anything besides need.

So she then proceeded to take over the conversation by barraging Master Dooku with questions concerning how the shuttle had been lost. It clearly shocked him and Knight Kenobi both, even though the latter had been with her all day and should’ve noticed she wasn’t her normal self and probably wouldn’t be until all this was over. The one of them being questioned obviously was not impressed with being so interrogated by a Padawan either, but Anakin was pretty sure Padmé didn’t care about their ranks.

She was even more upset than Anakin had thought, though, because she continued asked about when that suspicious man in the green suit had been seen again, and had it been before or after Serenno’s sun had set, and how hard did they look for him, even after Knight Kenobi started throwing her pleading looks and trying to change the subject, and even looking down at their plates as if pleading for them to be empty already, although given how much more talking Padmé was doing than eating Anakin thought it was going to be a long while yet. It didn’t help matters that it was becoming more and more obvious with each time Master Dooku tried to be vague or claimed not to remember that he had indeed let the ship be stolen and remain stolen. Anakin wished he could tell Padmé why he didn’t think that was because Master Dooku was doing anything with the Sith, but of course he couldn’t say such things here.

Finally, he interrupted her, “If their resources were so strained, then why, where there was that civil protest, a _peaceful_ protest, did they suddenly have the resources, with full arms handy, to-” by standing up, slamming down his fork, leaving much of his meal uneaten(if Anakin had left that much Master Jinn would’ve lectured him about how many children in the galaxy were starving), and saying, “Padawan Naberrie, I have already had a lengthy conversation about this with your Master and his fellow members of the Jedi Council. I did not call you three over here to have an even lengthier one. Indeed, trust me, Padawan, I will locate your Master as quickly as possible and have another conversation with him. Good night.”

She did look alarmed then, which was probably good, even if it wasn’t for the reason Master Dooku thought it was. Knight Kenobi started, “Master Dooku…” but he had already stalked off. “That was not necessary,” he hissed at Padmé. “Not towards him.” Anakin assumed he was thinking the same thing he was; Master Jinn had probably made those comments about which planets got more help to him too.

But it was still impossible to tell Padmé that here. And she just stuck her fork into her food in a way that said everything to Anakin, and sighed, “I know, he was your Master’s Master. Although Ani here has told me he’s never necessarily been that nice to either of you.”

“I never said he was that bad,” said Anakin hastily, but his heart sank as he looked over to Knight Kenobi; he doubted he’d believe him.

But Knight Kenobi was looking at her a little more thoughtfully now, if still with clear displeasure. “Did you know,” he said, “Master Jinn once said to me he thought Anakin’s influence on you could easily be a positive or negative force. I think this evening it has been both. But perhaps people would not be so surprised if you were to do something they’d more expect him to do.”

“No, they would be!” Anakin protested even more hastily, since it was obvious where that was going. But, he frantically thought, what could he do? It was him against the two of them, and she was his elder, and he was a knight.

But thankfully, she shook her head, saying, “Much as I wish I could be the one to do this, Ani…no, you’re the only one who can. The Chosen One.” She dropped her voice before saying, “Maybe this was what that meant, but I hope not. You won’t be ready to face actual Sith that quickly.”

That was as much as anyone dared say in the refectory, or even in the corridors. But the three of them all returned to Master Jinn’s quarters together, with Knight Kenobi even saying he’d sleep there after Padmé told them she’d been forbidden to(of course she’d been). But when they were safely behind the locked door Anakin launched right into his thoughts on Master Dooku. Knight Kenobi voiced his agreement.

But after thinking about it for a moment, Padmé said, “You might be right, I suppose. But I still don’t trust him.

I did it all wrong tonight, though,” she added. “I let my anger and fear get the better of me. I should have been more clever; I could’ve maybe gotten more out of him then. Master Windu is definitely not going to be happy with me when he hears about this. And now what if Master Dooku searches hard enough for him he figures out he’s not here? People aren’t supposed to know about all this right now.”

“Except we’re hoping the Sith find out,” Knight Kenobi reminded her. “A trap’s no good if the entity you’re trying to trap doesn’t see it. And he may well suspect something already. He and Master Jinn don’t see each other quite as much as Master Jinn and I do, but he does keep some track of him, and he’ll certainly know he’s gone soon, if he doesn’t already. You’re right in that you let your emotions get the better of you, Padawan, but you need not worry about causing any trouble on that point.”

They spent another couple of hours poring further over the diagrams of the Temple and of the area, before Obi-Wan suggested a three-way meditation. When Padmé looked hesitant, he said, “Master Jinn has said to me more than once, and I’m sure he’s said it to you too, Anakin, that two or more Jedi who work together will always have more chance of success if they meditate together, even if they stay within their own minds during it, and if they open their minds up, that is true even more so. For a mission with this much at stake, he might insist on it, were he here.”

“It would be better,” Padmé conceded. “We would have a better idea of where each other’s minds are…”

She wanted to. That wasn’t even a belief on Anakin’s part; it was something he just _knew_ , the way he knew that it was a little cold in the room and that the sun had completely set outside. And she didn’t want to because she thought it was a good idea, she wanted to because she wanted to.

It was awareness of what was going on in her head he’d never quite had with anyone before, not even Master Jinn.

Maybe Knight Kenobi did, because he gave Anakin a considering look, before saying. “Both of you follow my lead. First empty your minds.”

That was standard enough, and Anakin did it as automatically as he got into his personal favorite position for meditating, which was on his knees, very slightly squatted. Padmé meditated on her knees too, except she held herself up ramrod straight, feet poked out only just enough to maintain blood circulation. Knight Kenobi sat with his legs crossed in front of him and held his hands together behind his back.

“Are you attuned to the Force around you?” Anakin was, and Padmé must have been too, because she didn’t say anything. “Now, both of you, keep your awareness of the Force paramount, but put some focus on the other two of us. Feel us in the Force. Don’t try to go for much yet, just let yourselves feel that we are there.”

Anakin would never not be aware of Padmé in the Force, at least never when they were both on the same planet, and sometimes he thought he retained a conscious awareness of her even when they were light-years apart. So he mainly reached out towards Knight Kenobi. He was a strong presence too, like the Master they had in common, and yet at the same time completely different, less colorful, but more…deep, somehow.

“Now reach out into the Force with your mind, like you are craning your necks to see something in it. Don’t try to grab at our minds, though, just reach. Reach.”

Anakin reached, using a technique from when he had been much shorter, making his mind an arm, reaching to the top shelf it knew already was too high. He knew he was not moving, and neither were the other two, but it was starting to feel like the room was tilting, planning to drop them all against each other. The Force could make the air shrink, it could make it and the vacuum alike into nothing…

And suddenly, Anakin Skywalker was no longer alone in his own head. He had always been before, even with everything around him. His mind had touched Padmé’s twice in the past, when they had been much younger and he had willed her not to die, and it had touched Master Jinn’s plenty of time, but that had been nothing like this.

He was suffused first with an overpowering serenity, a calm determination to do what was right and what could be done, even when it was tinged with a painful grief, one that would not stop stabbing, not even when all else in Obi-Wan’s mind was blank. There was love there, too, quiet and cautious, for the universe in general, but also for Qui-Gon Jinn, and for his other friends, and for other people he had met and let go of. And there was fear, pressed in and almost denied, but there all the same, born out of their inability to be certain they would be the ones to win this war, for a war it had been, and he recognized that even when those around him didn’t.

But it was Padmé’s love that was far stronger, for both the universe in general and for those she cared for in particular. Her feelings poured themselves all over him, so warm and gentle. There was more fear there, immediate and as a result of the specific situation. She was not serene, not like Obi-Wan. She was steady, and willing to walk, unflinching, into any room placed in front of them, but she was not ready to accept those ends he would take without complaint. Her determination wasn’t just to do what could be done, it was to insist on what she wanted done. There was a defiance too, but Anakin could not quite guess of what. Much as he would wish, he knew it wasn’t of her Master.

“Don’t worry about what of you the two of us are getting,” said Obi-Wan, just before Anakin could. “We will all see much of each other, and the important thing is to trust. If we can trust each other now, we will trust each other two mornings from now.”

And now Anakin could feel Padmé’s trust, so ferocious it was almost like she’d burst it out of herself on purpose. Maybe she had. He could feel Obi-Wan’s too, matter of fact and easy.

But he couldn’t do it. Trust Padmé, sure. He’d always done that anyway. But Obi-Wan Kenobi was just…too easy. He couldn’t believe this was really the Knight’s mind. Even his grief over Tru and his fear of failure couldn’t get Anakin to believe in it. More than that, he could not believe Obi-Wan, or even Padmé, would just accept what they were feeling from his head.

“Ani…” Padmé was getting ready to plead with him, and most of the pain suffered by the three of them had already been hers, but now Anakin could feel that was more so. And he hated disappointing her. But no matter how he tried to tap back into that serenity, it just felt _fake fake fake_ , and he was getting angry.

Even the regret didn’t feel strong enough as Obi-Wan said, “We will try this part again tomorrow. For now just focus on the Force again, than simply on our presences in it, as we were doing earlier.”

Obi-Wan really was very powerful. Even as all the strange feelings retreated from Anakin’s head and he was once again only there with himself, the older Jedi was vibrating with the power of the Force, much more than he had been doing so earlier. Anakin sensed awe that was not his own.

“Think of the tasks that lay before the three of us, the things we will all do together. We will each of us do everything in our power to help the other two, and we all know that.” They did; it was a much-needed reminder of what they could be confident in. “Each of you, think about what the other two will do.”

Anakin thought about that. He thought about the lesser-used hallways of the Temple down below them where tomorrow they would practice the crawling and climbing he needed to do. He thought about the information Obi-Wan would bring them at the end of the day about the likely movements of everyone on the Council. He thought about how they would both monitor him.

He actually felt more confident, then, of Obi-Wan’s ability to protect him. His willingness he had already not doubted, and he was just so strong, sitting there, even his hands restrained by each other and by his arms; it was like he didn’t even need them. He thought maybe Padmé felt that way too.

“Now about the mission. We may not know all of our exact actions yet, but think about what you will do in general. Don’t forget how each action will be aided by actions from each other.”

The spike of fear hit Anakin so hard for a moment he wondered if he’d accidentally reached his mind out again. It was so fierce he lost his awareness of the Force completely, and he found his legs sliding out of position; he dropped into a sitting position on the floor. It had been Padmé’s, and he turned to Obi-Wan, wanting to ask if he’d felt it like that, but from the way he was staring serenely out at the wall across from him, it didn't look like it.

Padmé was still in her position on her knees, but Anakin could tell just by look at her with his eyes that her concentration too had been broken. They were close enough to each other it was each to shuffle over, and she, after a moment’s hesitation, abandoned whatever attempts he’d been making to keep herself in it and shuffled over to him herself. “I can sense your feelings now,” he whispered. “Can you sense mine?”

“I can sense you’re excited,” she said, smiling a little herself. “That’s natural enough, of course.”

Obi-Wan raised his head, and they could tell he too had come out of meditation, though probably voluntarily. “Obi-Wan,” said Anakin, worried for a moment about using his given name, but the man had no reaction to it, “do we have to tell Master Windu about why the meditation broke?” He really didn’t want Padmé getting in trouble on his account, especially if it meant Master Windu would work harder to keep them apart.

“I don’t think I can keep that from him, Ani,” said Padmé. “Although maybe I won’t tell him right away. We may have other things to think about for a while after he gets back. Even if they succeed in killing Darth Maul, we may get some clue as to who his Master is, especially if we identify their spy.”

“It will be for you to tell him,” said Obi-Wan. “Everything I see and hear from the two of you I will keep to myself; I trust that you, too, Anakin, will tell our Master anything he needs to know.”

And once again, Anakin found himself trying to believe something, and finding he just couldn’t. The way Obi-Wan and Master Jinn were, it just was hard to think Obi-Wan would keep _anything_ from him. But he did think he wouldn’t go telling Master Windu anything, and that was enough for him that night.


	6. Ill-Fated Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin tries to break into the Temple's communications.

All through breakfast in the refectory that morning, Anakin waited for the nerves to kick in. After two days of preparation and enough knowledge to understand that what they were doing was really dangerous, he thought he should feel them. But instead it seemed poor Padmé had taken all his anxiety for herself instead. It was a cloud around her that gave the impression it would choke her, and he and Obi-Wan together had to urge her to eat. The previous night they had managed to connect enough through Obi-Wan’s three-way meditation that he could kind of sense his mental state as well, which was mostly calm, but a little worried, especially about Padmé. Exactly what it should be, Anakin was sure.

When the other two had their plates clean, and Padmé’s was close enough under the circumstances, they went into the dialogue they had rehearsed the previous night. “Master Windu asked me to show you something, Padmé,” said Obi-Wan. “I’m afraid it’s something Padawan Skywalker can’t see yet.”

“Why not?” asked Anakin, trying to sound as put out as he’d be were the situation real. “Did he talk to Master Jinn about it?”

“I don’t know, Padawan,” said Obi-Wan, putting a little haughtiness into it. “All I know is I have to take her immediately.”

“I’m sorry, Ani,” said Padmé. “Hopefully this won’t take too long. You should go back to your quarters; I’ll try to make it back there before lunch-do you think I should, Knight Kenobi?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Don’t be too disappointed if she doesn’t, Padawan Skywalker.”

“Hmph.” Anakin liked to think that in reality, this wouldn’t make him pout as much as he was now pretending too. But he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t.

“You have work to do too, I believe,” Obi-Wan said, rising to his feet, Padmé rising with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Anakin was able to track them both through the Force now, and, for Obi-Wan, further than he would’ve been able to the previous week, although he supposed that didn’t matter too much unless he and Padmé separated. He stayed at the table for a few more minutes, fake sulking, before getting up.

He went about halfway back to his and Master Jinn’s quarters, until he came to one of the Temple’s lifts. He made a show of stopping, and staring at it for a bit, then hit the pad, trying to make it look like he didn’t care if he broke it.

The lift was pretty typical of the older ones in the Temple. It was big, and slow, so Anakin ended up waiting perhaps another ten minutes before it arrived, and it went down to much lowel levels of the Temple that were no longer in use. Levels on which, when the security cameras shorted out, no one was going to bother getting them repaired. Which most of them had done, though not all. Also where the Sith attack from years ago had left damaged floors and ceilings that had never been repaired, which the three of them had mapped out and memorized.

He emerged from the lift into a corridor much like the one up above, maybe even originally identical, or maybe now it was a little narrower. Also a cold place, although Anakin wasn’t sure if that was literal cold, or if he was just feeling cold for the relative lack of lifeforms and the resulting thinness of the Force immediately around him; both, probably. He took a moment to open up further to the Force; it was still there, which reassured him.

Another big difference was the huge hole up ahead, which looked like the work of metal-eating mites or microbes. These corridors were flooded with substances to kill them at various intervals, often enough to keep them from threatening the Temple’s foundations, but sometimes they ate a lot of metal first. Trying not to look too purposeful, Anakin walked slowly over to it and peeked in.

The room looked vaguely like it might have been someone’s quarters once; there was a stump in the middle which a table could’ve been put on, like what one sometimes saw in buildings shortly after the Ruusan Reformation, and there were a pair of doors that looked like they led to smaller rooms. No holes in the floor, and when Anakin stepped in it felt sturdy enough.

Ignoring the smaller doors, he went to the main one. It slid open automatically. The corridor beyond was dark, though he could see at least one working light very far to his right. Not as near to the ladders as he would have liked, but enough to make finding the rungs easier if he mainly did that through the Force.

At least he certainly wasn’t being watched now, he thought as he went out into the darkness, at least not literally. He hoped having a limited ability to perceive him wouldn’t make Padmé too anxious. He himself was less bothered by the darkness than by the continuing cold. It felt like it was closing around him a little, invading the air and threatening to destroy the Force in it completely, freeze it out at temperatures where it couldn’t live any longer.

There was definitely a literal chill down here; when Anakin’s hands first touched the rungs of the ladder, he initially pulled them back from that icy surface. But he’d touched much colder and scarier, he reminded himself, and firmly took hold of them again. He could barely see them in the dim light from a handful of lengths away, but they were proportioned exactly the same as the ones he and Padmé had spent an hour scaling together the previous day. They weren’t as well kept, and the rustiness on some of them was a little worrying, but the ability to quickly call on the Force in case of a fall was something he’d been keeping up for years, and even used once back when he’d been ten.

He didn’t need to use it again anyway; he went up three levels on the rungs and then slid through an automatic trapdoor. A maintenance hatch; the tubes he was now in would have once provided access to the power cells that had at the time kept many of the various utility systems running. He took a minute to try to feel out through the Force if any of them had been left there, but he couldn’t detect any sign of it, and anyway, it was unlikely. He really was getting tall; not too long ago he had squeezed through tunnels almost exactly like this one with ease, but now it felt like his limbs were continually getting in the way as he tried to shift his way through it.

The tunnel snaked upward; Anakin ended up using the Force to get through at least once section. He wondered how the non-Force sensitive workers who once would’ve used this tunnel had managed. At the top, another hatch had probably once spent most of its time locked had rusted and fused itself to the surrounding tunnel roof, and Anakin had to use his lightsaber to rectify that problem. That left him sorry he hadn’t happened to bring any of the other things he could’ve broken through with; he bet using any of them would have really impressed Obi-Wan.

But he didn’t allow himself to think about that anymore, because now he was reaching his destination. Amid all the rooms whose doors filled the corridor intersection into which he had risen, there was one that led into one of the Temple’s secluded communication hubs, the one used when the Jedi needed to confer with someone from the Senate about restricted information. The communications here had the highest amount of encryption on them, and all records of them were supposed to be automatically erased after they were over. If a member of the Council, or possibly anyone in the Temple at all, was communicating with the Sith, this was the most likely place they could do it without detection.

Except that while the communications sent were supposed to be erased, and would appear to be to most people, the system that could truly wipe every trace of something away from its databanks was very rare. Anakin had always had a knack for technology; he and Master Jinn had discovered that very early on in his apprenticeship. He tended more towards mechanics than computer databanks, and wasn't a proper hacker, but he could do more things with computers than most Padawans his age. He’d studied the Temple’s computers enough over the years to be pretty sure that unless they used a completely different type for the restricted comms, he could at least retrieve a few months’ worth of information on who had contacted whom, maybe even some of what they’d said. The trick was getting it in, retrieved, downloaded, and out without being stopped. Preferably without being seen, but they might or might not be able to manage that.

They were going to try to. Anakin didn’t go anywhere immediately, but instead went to a nearby wall and sat down against it, drawing his knees up. There was almost certainly a camera somewhere in the area on it, and to it, right now, his sulk would appear to be still harmless. After all, they hopefully assumed he didn’t even know there was anything important behind any of the surrounding doors. But he was in fact waiting, staring idly at a wall that happened to include a yellow light on it. Obi-Wan and Padmé, who had been preparing for this a lot longer than he had, had devised a trick that they were hoping would take down all the area’s cameras, including the ones in the communications room itself, disable the door enough so that his own skills could do the rest, and, also, make that light blink to signal him that the cameras were off.

So he sat there, and waited. He considered meditating, maybe even pulling himself up to his knees. Maybe if they saw him doing that on camera, they’d hope he was thinking better of his ways. That would be a good thing, when he knew that even if they got away with this, if subsequent events didn’t lead to them having to then reveal they’d broken into the computer, whoever learned about his stalking about here right now wasn’t going to have a very high opinion of him, and when members of the Council might…well, it would be a lot better if they thought he at least regretted it.

Part of him really didn’t want to impress those people, though. That kept him where he was until the yellow light flashed.

They hadn’t compromised the lock as much as they’d hoped. He broke through, but it took nearly twenty minutes, not good when they could only keep the cameras offline for so long while making it look like they’d malfunctioned. Also, if he was found out later, they’d see him as really determined to be rebellious and disobedient at best. They might not even leave his punishment to Master Jinn, although he hoped Master Windu might try to take charge of it. Mostly.

Making so many things in the area fritz about had taken a few lights out too, but when Anakin had memorized where everything was in the room there was light enough to get to the corner of the room where a small grey bank with only a handful of controls on the top sat. Here was where the main encryption work was done, and where the message contents stayed the longest before being wiped. There was a tiny jack in the back, built so that the console could be fried from the inside out if that ever proved necessary. Anakin slipped himself down to his knees, almost completely hidden from the rest of the room behind on of the larger consoles, and from his belt pouch he removed an old-fashioned databit and an adapter. He just hoped the latter worked, since he’d never gotten the chance to test it.

The console beeped when he plugged it in. He hoped this wouldn’t cause it to fry the banks; then he’d be left with no information and a difficult explanation to give. But it continued to hum at the same volume, and when he tapped the databit’s tiny display screen, it announced itself as plugged in, no data found on subject.

He had to rise from his hiding place then, carefully looking around even though he couldn’t sense anyone being even in the immediate area besides himself, and turn the console on, which was much more dangerous; they didn’t know doing so wouldn’t send a signal out to somewhere. He didn’t sense any new danger as it lit up, but he wasn’t entirely sure he absolutely would.

The Force didn’t necessarily tell one much about the state of computers. It was generated by living things, after all, and they were what had their presence in it. But when Anakin concentrated on the Unifying Force, glad now for the guidance in it Obi-Wan had sometimes given him over the years, he found himself automatically reaching for and pressing another button, unbothered even by the somewhat indignant noise the console responded with. Several commands were entered in. His focus came back from the console; it was asking for a password. He entered in the one Master Windu had supplied Padmé with before leaving.

The display was showing him times and amounts of data deleted. The interface was the same as it was on every Temple computer. That was enough; he could do the rest himself, at least with the Force directing him.

He didn’t exactly go back into the trance he’d been in to get the console loaded, but he did get pretty absorbed. Master Jinn had told him once that according to the Crechemasters he hadn’t needed to have his mind opened to the Force as much as the other crechelings had, that he connected to it without thinking even more than most Jedi did. He also warned him that this meant when he got too focused on something, usually building something, or, more recently, flying something, he was surprisingly vulnerable to someone sneaking up on him. He’d been giving Anakin extra exercises in trying to prevent this.

At first Anakin remembered all this, and kept his awareness up. But as he had to rely on his instincts more and more for deciding what command to enter in next, he slowly let it slip. Without even noticing-until he nearly jumped at the sound of the door opening, too late for him to hope he could dive back behind the console without being seen; all he could do was whirl around with his hand on his lightsaber, and find himself facing Master Dooku.

“Well, well, well,” Master Dooku’s voice was cold, amused, menacing. Anakin could not help but be terrified. “What in the galaxy are you doing here, Padawan?”

He tried to think of what Obi-Wan or Padmé might say, but no, he thought, that wouldn’t be believable coming from him anyway. Instead he clenched the fist that wasn’t on his weapon, and said, “What are *you* doing here? You’re not on the Council.”

“Only because I have never conformed enough for their tastes. And it is not always Council members who use this room. Your Master was in here once, a few years before he took you.”

But he wasn’t saying he was supposed to be here. Anakin was attuned enough to the Force right now he would probably be able to sense if he was lying, and probably he had sensed this. “So if I happened to mention you being here to Padmé, who you know is *going* to tell her Master, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about?”

“Impertinent boy,” he hissed, and strode across the room until he loomed over Anakin. “I should go straight to Qui-Gon and tell him his Padawan snuck into a place he certainly should not be in and then tried to blackmail me.”

At least Anakin didn’t have to fake the chuckle. “But will you?” he challenged. He kind of hoped Master Dooku did; Master Jinn could probably figure out a way to get his former Master reveal more during such a conversation than he planned to.

Even so, the cold smile that filled his face in response couldn’t help but make Anakin shiver a little. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” his voice icy mockery. If Anakin really had been doing something he didn’t want Master Jinn knowing about, it might have given him nightmares. “For now, I will at least remove the intruder who has no business being in such a room. Come along.”

As he seized him by the wrist, Anakin’s thoughts flew to the databit still plugged into the back. If he left it in, it might just still download. If Master Windu had still been in the Temple, he could have easily come back here and retrieved it within an hour. But he wasn’t, and neither Obi-Wan nor Padmé could risk it now. It would have to go unretrieved for days, and even if Master Dooku by some miracle didn’t think to look for it, there was so much time for someone else to look. Once it was found, they’d know it was his, and getting caught at the point meant they’d know everything he was trying to do.

But of course, he could still try to just pass it off as the random actions of a Padawan feeling disobedient and deciding to make trouble using computers, because he happened to be good with them. The spy, if there was one, might now be worried about the older Jedi Darth Maul was set against or even Padmé having their suspicions, but he was still young enough he might not be worried about. And he thought he probably had gotten at least some of the information onto the databit by now. More might even download itself in.

“Hey, watch it, not so tight!” he snapped at Dooku, though while he made a show of trying to yank away, he didn’t actually use his full strength; if there was a real struggle it increased the old Master’s chances of spotting the databit. He glared up at him, and met his eyes like never before.

There was darkness in them. Suspicion. Intent.

Anakin reached out to the databit through the Force, and squeezed it, and then kept on going, pressing molecules into molecules, until it crumpled to a tiny piece of debris and then fell from the jack. He deliberately stomped his foot, just in case that amount of mass hitting the floor was audible.

He waved his arm and used the Force to hit a few more controls, and the databank rescrambled itself. It would now be difficult for anyone to see any particular purpose to what he’d be doing on it, and even Master Dooku probably wouldn’t find that worth the effort.

 

####  **That Evening**

 

“You did the right thing, destroying the databit,” said Obi-Wan when they were safely back in Anakin and Master Jinn’s quarters that night. Anakin was sure he believed it too, and so would Padmé. The problem was, Anakin himself was having trouble there.

“I just wish we’d gotten something,” said Padmé. “Anything. We got so close, and you made so much effort, Ani, and now what if you do end up getting in trouble, and our Masters aren’t able to get your out of it?”

But there, Anakin said, “I don’t know. I think maybe I did get something. I didn’t think this earlier, but Padmé, I’m starting to think you were right about Master Dooku.”

“I told you,” said Obi-Wan, “that he didn’t want the Council finding out about his being there doesn’t necessarily mean anything. There really is a bit of a push and pull conflict about the use of that room, and he may very well have just wanted to avoid having Council members harp to him about it. You can’t make that kind of assumption from such a brief meeting…”

“I’m not assuming it, then,” said Anakin, annoyed. “But I am wondering a lot more about him than I was. I want to talk to our Masters about it. Master Jinn could probably easily get into his company more…”

But Obi-Wan sighed, and said, “That’s not going to be an easy thing to say, Anakin, or for him to hear. I mean, just think how you would react if somebody tried to tell you they thought Master Jinn had fallen to the Dark Side and collaborated with the Sith, and when we still don’t have any real evidence-you know that even if someone had it, you’d probably still be upset. I’m not saying we should rule out the option of talking to him, but…"

Just then, the comm beeped. Padmé went over to look, then said, “It’s them.”

“Don’t tell them about Master Dooku now,” said Obi-Wan immediately. “At the very least, that should be done in person. Especially since, also, we cannot assume no one is monitoring that line, so we should talk only about their mission, and otherwise say what we would want a spy to hear.” That all made sense enough, and though when they assembled in front of the console, their being shorter than him caused Anakin and Padmé to both stand in front of Obi-Wan, he was the one who reached forward and brought the holographic images of Masters Jinn and Windu. “Good evening, Masters,” he said. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you; Master Dooku caught Anakin snooping somewhere he shouldn’t.” Anakin, getting the idea, duly made an ashamed face.

Master Jinn played along too, sighing and looking down, and saying, “I would be more displeased with you, my Padawan, if I had the energy for it right now. We will talk about that when I get back. But meanwhile, I’m afraid we have more bad news. Our mission has failed.”

“What?!” That wiped all other thoughts from all three of their minds. “Why?” asked Obi-Wan. “How?”

“We got word from the planet we were being sent to,” said Master Windu. “They don’t want us anymore. We actually got two transmissions; the first was just that, and the second was from an opposing party, who claimed he’d seen fishy characters talking to the people who made that decision. Gave us good dates and locations, and we’ve zeroed in on the probable signals for that, and they match what’ve been confirmed as other Sith transmissions.”

“So he found out,” said Obi-Wan. “Any idea how?”

“Well,” said Master Jinn, “knowledge of this mission wasn’t entirely confined to the Council. But it was supposed to go around on a need-to-know basis. We even delayed the notification to the Chancellor of who was being sent; I doubt he’s known for more than a day, if he does at all, if he’d even looked anyway. So that narrows the group of people who could be sending transmissions, but there were still plenty of them. I don’t know how well they were encrypted.” That last part was for a spy’s benefit, of course, to make him or her think they had no suspicions.

“You know,” added Obi-Wan, “I think Master Dooku said you were tampering with one of the machines they would’ve used, Anakin. Did you know that?”

“Thought it might be,” said Anakin; it would’ve been suspicious had he claimed he had no idea. “Wasn’t sure, though. Whatever it was, it was advanced beyond what I’ve studied yet.” That was true enough. There was the reason he'd had to tune in to the Force that much.

“Perhaps you should learn a little bit about it,” said Master Jinn. “In a more appropriate way, of course.” It was a very Master Jinn thing to say; it wouldn’t make anyone suspicious.

“If you want me too, Master,” grinned Anakin.

“You need not smile, Padawan; you are still in very deep trouble. I hope, in fact, that you will think over how much tonight.”

“I think I may have a word with the Council over it,” added Master Windu. “Perhaps I can teach you to regret this properly.” That was only a smart thing to say over this transmission, of course, setting up for Master Windu to take charge of Anakin’s punishment.

Meanwhile, Master Jinn was going along with it, “Shall we discuss it over lastmeal, Master Windu? We really should go and eat it.”

“You should, if you haven’t yet,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Would you contact us again within a couple of hours, before it’s time for your Padawans to go to bed?”

“In an hour,” said Master Jinn. “Force be with you until then.”

Anakin was honestly a little surprised by how everything just seemed to go out of Padmé then. He saw her frame give a little, just a little, the instant the images of their Masters had disappeared, and the rest of it gave when she went and sat down, and he could sense a lot of sadness and listlessness in her. It got him and Obi-Wan both anxiously leaning over her. “I know this is hard,” said Obi-Wan. “It is a very great disappointment, especially since I know you, like the rest of us, very much wanted this over before Anakin could be put into any more danger. But we must keep up the fight now, you must be strong.”

“Well, it would be too late for that anyway, would it?” sighed Padmé. “Do you know how closely I was watching your Master’s reaction to talking about Dooku? Master Windu’s been teaching me to make close observations on people, says I’m naturally good at it, so it’s a skill I should hone. I was hoping to see something on his face to make me think…”

“Padmé,” said Obi-Wan, “you can’t expect him to think anything of his old Master being in that room.”

“Master Dooku’s not on the Council,” she said. “I’ve truly been wondering what he was doing in there.”

“Me too,” Anakin added.

“Only because you were suspicious of him already. It’s not at all unknown for other senior Masters to be in there. As he told you, Master Jinn has been in there. As I said earlier, his not wanting the Council hearing about it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. And as I just said now, you cannot expect his former Padawan to just agree with your way of thinking so quickly; I am sure Master Windu would tell you this were he here; think back to the lessons in diplomacy you have learned as well.”

Anakin sensed the surge of anger that took Padmé for a split second. She didn’t let it keep hold of her, of course, and nor did she say what he *knew* she was thinking. So he said it instead: “You are starting to sound like you don’t believe it either.”

“I honestly don’t know. I do think, after the news we’ve just received, that the likelihood of there being a spy here is that much more. But I also think the likelihood is more that our spy in on the Council.”

Anakin sensed no deceit in him, and his logic was pretty good. But he had known Padmé’s instincts about people to be right far more often than other people’s instincts were, and he still couldn’t help but feel Obi-Wan wasn’t fully appreciating that, thinking her young and maybe even silly.

If neither he nor their two Masters were willing to believe them, Anakin thought, should they try to be disobedient for real? Despite what some Masters who didn’t know him well thought, he actually didn’t want to be that much, not towards Master Jinn. And he wasn’t sure it would ever be possible to persuade Padmé to be, at least not outright.

But…this was the future of the Jedi that was at stake. And if their elders were so clouded in their thoughts by their longtime friendships with Master Dooku, and only the two of them could see the situation without that in the way, well, maybe there were some things it might be necessary for them to do. Maybe they wouldn’t even have to disobey any actual orders of their Masters; maybe they could try doing things they hadn’t been outright forbidden to do in their spare time. Such as hack into Dooku’s files, if Master Jinn actually did let him develop his skills there further. Or ask some of their friends to keep an eye on him, since if they tried following him themselves he would get suspicious. There probably wasn’t much they could do that way, but it was better than nothing.

It looked like now wasn’t the time to ask Padmé, because she seemed to be subdued, probably by herself more than by Obi-Wan, even before she said, “I suppose you’re right. But if so, is there even anything more we can do to…”

“Right now,” said Obi-Wan, “I think we’re just waiting for instruction. Or at least for Masters Jinn and Windu to get back here.”


	7. Another Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padmé go probing for information on Dooku.

Anakin didn’t ask Padmé, either, during the remaining couple of days they had left before Masters Jinn and Windu arrived home. He didn’t have that much time alone with her anyway; Obi-Wan was still keeping them company for most of the time one of them wasn’t at a lesson or activity or otherwise busy. Nobody brought up the subject of Master Dooku again. They heard nothing from either him or the Council; it seemed that, whatever his motivation, he hadn’t been willing to tell them.

Once again Anakin awaited his Master in their quarters, with Master Jinn having told him over the comms that he had some very stern words for him. But instead, even before he came in, Anakin could sense concern coming from him instead. When the door opened, he walked in drawn up tall, barking a sharp “Anakin!” But then it snapped shut, and a moment later Master Jinn had pulled him into an embrace even harder than the one with which he’d left him. “How are you, Anakin?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine,” said Anakin. “I’m sorry the mission failed, but we’re all three of us fine, so long as you can keep anyone from punishing me.”

“Well,” said Master Jinn, “I may have to give the impression of keeping you confined here for a few days. But I’ll bring Padawan Naberrie in to see you, if Master Windu allows it, and especially if we can do it without anybody noticing. You should probably spend a few days catching up on your readings anyway, since preparing for this has caused you to neglect that a bit. Or we could start learning more about the communication and encryption equipment you worked with, although there I must admit to having too little knowledge myself; we may both learn about it. A pity we cannot even trust Master Nu; she would be a truly excellent teacher. Perhaps later we can engage her in a limited way…”

Thinking about Master Nu brought Anakin’s thoughts back to the subject of Master Dooku. He wasn’t going to talk to Master Jinn about that now; he very badly didn’t want to when he Master was hugging him and being so wonderful and kind. But she was friends with him, and she might also have a clearer view of him than Master Jinn, since she hadn’t been his Padawan. It was true that they couldn’t completely trust her, because they still couldn’t completely trust anyone outside the five of them, except maybe Master Yoda. But Anakin found it hard to believe she would be the spy. How much of the knowledge the Sith had managed to obtain would she even know anyway? Unless she’d gotten it off communication signals, but their Masters seemed convinced the spy wasn’t doing it that way.

And even if it might still be a bad idea to try to tell her they thought Master Dooku was a spy, maybe if he talked to her about his being in that communications room, without saying anything else, that might get her to talk about it. She was a stickler for rules; if she’d known he’d broken this one before, she might complain about it. Or she might go scold him for it, and he might reveal something to her Anakin might be able to get out of her later. There were any number of ways he or Padmé might be able to get information about him through her.

He would talk to Padmé about it, he decided. He just needed to get her away from Master Windu. Or maybe he could get Obi-Wan to help, although he’d have less chance to talk to him, he might have less chance to talk to Master Nu, and also, he wasn’t the one Anakin wanted helping him.

Meanwhile, Master Jinn finally let go, and said, “Tonight I think we should dedicate to meditation. I know Obi-Wan worked with you and Padmé both on that, and I would like to guide your thoughts on your recent experiences; I sense already you still have some turbulence about them, and you should get them settled in your head. Remember all that has happened cannot be changed, and it does not do to dwell on it out of regret.”

“Okay,” said Anakin, because he really couldn’t refuse, but there was no way to hide the dismay. _He can’t find out what I’m thinking about Dooku unless I let him,_ he reminded himself, but he didn’t know how he was going to do this.

Luckily he’d had this reaction before, and Master Jinn just chuckled and said, “I am still awaiting the age in which you appreciate this more, my young Padawan. But first, we have not eaten. Since we want the Temple to think I am punishing you, you should stay and let me bring lastmeal here.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin agreed. That gave him about half an hour, maybe a little more, to figure out how to keep himself from feeling too much guilt or how he was hiding anything from his Master. It wasn’t an impossible thing to do, he thought, but it would require a lot of clever direction of his emotions. He might have to let his Master believe he felt a lot more bad about failing than he did. This exercise might actually teach him more than Master Jinn thought.

 

####  **The Following Week**

 

It was as Master Jinn had said. Anakin spent most of the next week catching up on the history of the Republic. Padmé managed a single visit. Unfortunately Master Jinn was present for most of it, only stepping out for a few minutes, enough time for Anakin to tell her his new idea and for her to say it might be a good one. But they got to sit and talk and then practice a kata, and Master Jinn told them they did it very well together, unusually so.

If anyone said anything about him in the Council chambers, or any similar places, he didn’t hear anything about it. Within a couple of days he pretty much stopped worrying about it.

Once he got back to a more regular schedule, though he was still refraining from some of his favorite activities, he still found himself going to the Archives more than usual. For the most part history that wasn’t related to the Jedi Order bored Anakin (even history that was sometimes didn’t engage him much), but by reading enough of it, he found himself feeling a curiosity about the Works, which maybe he played up a little to get Master Jinn to send him researching to the Archives more. He also went there to read more about the equipment he’d dealt with in that communications room, though he still had to limit that. He especially didn’t want Master Nu to notice; she might innocently mention it to Master Dooku.

So when Master Nu came his way, he had a tablet in front of him detailing the disastrous results of too many stone mites being released into the Works and their infesting the surrounding area, including part of the Senate District, which of course had provoked much outrage from the Senators. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you here so much.”

“Well, it’s partly punishment, I’m afraid,” said Anakin. He and Master Jinn had already agreed to tell this story: “I did something I shouldn’t have done, and now Master Jinn has commanded me to spend all my time reading and isn’t letting me do any flying or anything with droids for a few weeks. I suppose I should’ve known better than to try anything while he was away. His old Master was actually the one that caught me!”

“Really, that’s remarkable.” He didn’t sense any deception in Master Nu when she said this, though of course he could always be wrong.

“Yeah, I was a little surprised myself when it happened,” he said. “I…I don’t know if I should tell you what I was doing, but…it was somewhere I had the impression neither of us should’ve been at, though sometimes I admit I don’t really pay enough attention to where higher-ranked Masters should and shouldn’t be, so maybe I was wrong about that.”

Master Nu was silent for a moment, then she said, “You really do want to go to places you know are off-limits don’t you? You’re like your mother that way, you know.”

Normally her mentioning new facts about his mother got Anakin’s excited attention. His first thought was to not let it; he couldn’t get distracted today when he had to get their conversation to go where he wanted. But then he thought she might wonder why if he didn’t, so he let the spark of excitement take him as he said, “Really? Did she get in trouble often for it?”

“A few times. Mostly when she was younger than you are now, though. There was one time when she was nine and snuck away to the pylons and climbed and climbed until she was tired and hungry, and that time the only punishment I gave her was insisting she climbed down immediately and without help. Master Dooku actually suggested that punishment; he happened to be with me at the time.”

Easy way to get the conversation back to him: “Did he see much of my mother? I’m afraid I got him angry at me; maybe I shouldn’t have, if he could’ve told me more of her.”

Master Nu considered this. “I don’t think he was ever alone with her, so he couldn’t tell you much you couldn’t hear from me. Though they did see a lot of each other, I suppose. He was training your Master at the same time, of course, although they actually didn’t see each other as much. But you probably know about all that already.” Anakin did; Master Jinn had talked at great length about how much Master Dooku had always controlled whom he could see. It was something Anakin was very grateful Master Jinn didn’t do. “His memory is very good, of course.”

“But yours is perfect,” Anakin grinned, because he’d long been convinced of that.

Even if she chuckled a little, and said, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But are you sure he’d remember? I mean, he didn’t even say to me, ‘Just like your mother,’ or anything like that.”

“That’s because he is a sensible man who isn’t going to judge a young Padawan by his parent.” That was always possible, Anakin supposed. “Also, he might be worried that once you knew he knew your mother, you might bother him with questions about her. I’m afraid he’s not the kind of man who likes to be bothered.”

“Not very generous of him,” said Anakin, just a little jestingly, to keep her from getting offended on her friend’s behalf. “What if I’d been Master Jinn’s son? Or the son of one of his other Padawans? I’m sure Master Jinn couldn’t be the only one he’s ever trained, not at his age.”

To his surprise, Master Nu looked down, and said, “I don’t know if…"

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, genuinely concerned. “Did something bad happen to another Padawan of his? Or to him? I could look it up in the records, you know.”

“Very little of what happened with the Padawan he took after Master Jinn remains in the records,” she said. “She did not become a Jedi.”

“Why? Did she fail her trials?” That was hardly something he ought not to know about. Padawans failed their trials sometimes. Although in recent years, they very rarely got expelled because of it, instead just remaining Padawans and trying again later. But that was because the ranks were now so thin; it had been much more common before the first Sith attack.

“She never took them. It’s a complicated story, some of which I don’t even know; there are things no Jedi Master talks about to others. Put simply, she was judged unsuited to be a Jedi around the time she would have taken them.”

“What happened to her?” Anakin remembered what Padmé had said, so long ago now, when she’d been worried about never getting a Master and leaving at thirteen, and if she thought they might just let her go home to Naboo. “Do you know?”

Master Nu shook her head sadly. “She turned down the Reassignment Council’s offer of help and walked out of all of our lives and knowledges, except possibly Master Dooku’s, and I don’t think even he’s kept track of her. It’s not even impossible she could be dead…” She drifted off too quickly, as if there was some reason for that she didn’t want to tell Anakin.

He’d never get that out of her, he thought. In fact, he probably should limit his remaining questions about this failed Padawan of Dooku’s. Her name, the dates of her time in the Temple, and facts like that he or Padmé could get from other sources, so he wouldn’t bother with any of those. Instead he made his voice softer and sadder as he commented, “That must have been hard on him, huh? Losing a Padawan like that.”

Master Nu stood there quietly for a few moments, while Anakin even looked back at his readings, though it was hard for him to focus on the words enough to read them. Then she said, “Master Dooku, I think, would be very reluctant to admit to that. He is firmly of the belief that Jedi should be above those kinds of emotions, especially as related to their own successes or failures. I have never even heard him mention that poor girl’s name since only about a month or so after she was gone. Nonetheless I believe you are right.”

“Well, I trust your judgement on that.” He made himself grin again. “You’re the one who knows him, after all. Do you think had you been where nobody was supposed to be, he might have told *you* what he was doing there?”

That got a little smile, but also a shake of the head. “Master Dooku is a man of many secrets, Padawan, even from his friends. Plenty from his former Padawan; if you were to ask Master Jinn, Anakin, I am sure he will give you a whole list of things he’s still wondering about.”

“But is your list longer?”

“Probably,” she said easily, but then, more firmly, said, “But that I don’t think I should be relating to just anyone, Padawan.”

That was probably his cue to back off, so he said, “That’s okay. I should get back to work anyway.”

 

####  **A Couple of Days Later**

 

Anakin repeated to Padmé what Master Nu had told him about Master Dooku during a precious few minutes they got alone during lunch; they had both come into the refectory with their Masters, but Masters Jinn and Windu briefly stepped away from their Padawans to discuss a matter of their own between themselves. There was just time enough for her to hear everything and say, “That tells us a lot about what we don’t know, I think.

I’ll look some things up myself,” she added when their Masters returned a moment later. “See what I can find.” That made sense; she was allowed to access a lot more of the computer databanks than he was yet.

Late in the afternoon, Anakin was in the Archives once again, this time when Master Nu was somewhere else, hidden from most of the vast room in one of the wall nooks. He was getting a little reading in about the communications equipment when unexpectedly he felt the presence of Padmé near him, and moments later heard her footsteps. It made him feel warm inside, getting to anticipate her like that, and he knew his smile was way too big when she called, “Ani?” even before she peered into his nook; she’d probably found him using that same new awareness of each other. She grinned back, saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you enjoy reading so much.” That made Anakin feel a little embarrassed, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Thankfully he didn’t long, since when she sat down by him, she said, “I got all the information on Master Dooku’s other Padawan that I could. Her name was Komori Vosa, and he took her as Padawan not long at all after your Master was knighted. About ten years ago, when she was 23, she was brought before the Jedi Council out of concerns that she was ‘unchangeably unsuited to become a Jedi Knight.’ They ruled she was. There’s no record as to why; there usually isn’t in such cases. There are probably records of it somewhere else, more protected, out of respect for her privacy. Some of her most painful emotional problems and secrets could be in there.”

“You don’t want to try to get at those, do you?” Anakin asked, trying not to sound too unhappy, even though she could probably sense his feelings there anyway.

She sounded unhappy herself, as she said, “Not unless you we really think we need to.” Obviously she already feared they would. “Anyway, she turned down the offer of the Reassignment Council to find her a position somewhere and walked away. As Master Nu indicated, there’s no further records on her in the Temple, which is actually a little more unusual for older failed Padawans, but hardly unknown.”

“There might be, then…” Anakin started.

“I know,” she said. Of course that thought too had occurred to her, and it was one she didn’t like at all. “Honestly, I doubt I could get at any more secreted records, and knowing how deeply some of the medical-related ones are protected, I'd say we'd need someone with real hacking training. Which the more I think about it, the more one of us should have...”

“You think is should be me?” He tried to sound neutral.

“Then we probably should talk to Master Jinn about that, at least.”

Anakin’s first impulse was to agree, but then he thought about having to talk to Master Jinn while trying to hide deception and guilt. “I...don’t know if I’m ready for that kind of thing,” he admitted.

“Let me do it, then.” She must have sensed his shock, but she went on anyway, “I’m pretty sure I can; he won’t get as good a read on me as on you, and Master Windu’s been teaching me how to make my shields really good too. I mean, we don’t have to talk to him tomorrow; we can wait until I get the chance. Maybe I should even try to do it when you’re not there; that’ll make things much easier.”

He should’ve known that, yeah, Master Windu would do that. Anakin had no doubt he’d told lots of people lots of lies, and probably saw that sort of thing as necessary, maybe even at times when it really wasn’t. But it was still strange, to think of Padmé learning to lie, learning to get good at it. “Okay,” he said.

“That’s agreed, then.” She smiled, and said, “Meanwhile, I’ve got a spare hour here, maybe a little longer. What are you currently reading about?”

So he showed her, explained it to her as much as she could grasp when she still knew little about the subject. Master Jinn would want to know what he’d learned that day, so it was good practice. There was even one point where trying to explain to her exactly how a monitoring delay worked led to him having a better understanding of it himself.

“I’m afraid Master Windu and I are taking lastmeal in our quarters,” she said when at last they got up.

“If he tells you anything important, will you tell me?” he asked. “Unless he tells you not to?”

She hesitated, she probably at least partly thought she should only do that if he outright gave her permission, which Anakin didn’t think he’d do. “Maybe,” she finally said. “Definitely, if it has anything to do with this. I don’t think he will, though.”

Anakin could sense she sincerely believed that. He didn’t know why he was convinced Master Windu would. Or why he didn’t say so to her then, but something held him back, some weird nervousness of how she would react.

He tried not to think about it too much when she had gone off and he was on his way to join Master Jinn and Obi-Wan in the refectory. He was even a little proud of how he finally managed to during the meal itself, when he had a conversation to focus on instead.

 

####  **That Evening**

 

She hadn’t believed Master Windu was going to say much to her he pretty much hadn’t already. She’d also very much hoped he wouldn’t bother repeat to her what he had.

She held onto that belief and that hope for most of the time they were actually eating. The conversation was mostly about the day, and Padmé had done enough before meeting with Anakin that she didn’t even have to avoid talking about it, even though he didn’t tell her much about his initially.

Until they were nearly done, and Padmé looking at her dish and noting her appetite had decreased. Not too long ago, when she’d eaten this much, if she hadn’t still felt hungry, she hadn’t felt full the way she did now. She wasn’t sure whether that was simply that she was getting older, or because she was getting more anxious.

Then he said, “I got a message today. One I went to talk with Master Yoda with; I’m going to leave it up to him whether we tell the rest of the Council, but I have decided to tell you. But you must promise to not discuss this with anyone until one of I or Master Yoda gives you to go ahead, not even with Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi, or Padawan Skywalker.”

“Of course I won’t.” Could he sense her relief? She might have been very tempted to tell Anakin if he hadn’t been directly told not to, even though she’d know she shouldn’t.

“Good,” he said. “I will show you the message itself.” He got up and got a pad. “I won’t show you who it’s from, at least not yet.” He moved a finger on the surface, and when he held it in front of her, it was scrolled past the information related to date, time, and sender. She was left to read:

_Master Windu,_

_Forgive me for this long delay, during which so much has happened; I have read all your messages, and hope only you still have use for this information. Getting all the tracings you wanted took me much longer than it would most of the time; there were none not at least in deep encryption, and most were further than that._

“You know what deep encryption means,” Master Windu said carefully. Padmé nodded; that was a pretty basic term in communications technology, although it wasn’t one used lightly; deep encryption required so much time and money it was typically only used by governments to transmit classified information.

_However, I was able to find the datestamp and rough interplanetary location for them all. As you suspected, they were all sent from the same solar system, the Avvarbor System, from all three of the inhabitable planets on it. The technical details follow:_

Those details were a series of numbers and letters Padmé recognized as technical descriptions of when and from where transmissions were sent. “These,” said Master Windu as he took the tablet back, “are transmissions from over a year ago now that we believe are connected to the Sith. Looking at the times, I do not believe the Zabrak Sith Lord could have sent them; they would be either from his Master, or from some accomplice. That accomplice would likely not be a Jedi; there are no Jedi that were even remotely in the area for even a majority of them, however, there are qualities about the encryption that make us believe that whoever was involved in the encoding of them was at least Force-sensitive. There are a good number of communities in that system that are very closed off and hostile to outsiders, and the parents in them are almost never willing to give their Force-sensitive children up to the Jedi, so that person may be one of them.”

“Or the transmissions could be sent by someone other than whoever encrypted it,” suggested Padmé. She had the strong urge to ask questions then, about Master Dooku or his former padawan, which would sound crazy to him, she knew. It felt wrong to bite them down; she felt the deceit of that in her teeth.

And her Master was looking at her oddly, because he had to be able to sense she was holding something back. “This does not necessarily have anything do with our spy in the Temple, Padmé,” he said. “You ought to know by now that such a conspiracy as the Sith have perpetuated, likely for centuries and centuries now, would have to involve more than one person, more than one plot, and more than one dark corner.

I know,” he then added, “that you saw Padawan Skywalker just now. I know the two of you are working on something you are not talking to us about, although I cannot imagine why.”

“It’s because of Master Jinn,” Padmé blurted, desperate to not let him think she would ever want to keep anything from he himself. “Anakin and I think…”

“Master Dooku, you mean.” He’d figured it out before she could decide whether to tell him. “I admit, I have wondered myself, although I have seen nothing from him outside his being in that room that casts the least suspicion on him. I will keep an eye out, however, and for now I will not speak to either Master Jinn or Knight Kenobi about it.”

“Oh you can talk to Obi-Wan about it,” said Padmé. “We’ve talk to him about…some of it.” She braced herself for her Master’s displeasure at this confession, that she had talked to someone other than him about it without talking to him about it. She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it that way, except that it was just how events had gone and Obi-Wan had been on the spot, and it was what her feelings had told her to do.

But her Master kept his face to his usually neutral, and merely commented, “Well, at least you two haven’t been running around completely on your own, then. Continue to work with him too, then. I want you to understand this, Padmé,” and he actually took her hand as he spoke to her, which he didn’t do that much of anymore, since she didn’t really need it now to know when he was this serious, “when I say to you I’m going to allow this, that means I am putting trust in your judgement, though it relieves me to know you’ll be taking heed of the judgements of your elders as well. You know I don’t trust your friend’s judgement, which means I am also trusting you to lead him.”

“I won’t let you down, Master,” she said to him. “I promise.”


	8. Transmission Residue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mace and Padmé are sent on a new mission.

Two days after he had first met with Master Yoda, Mace went to meet with him again. Though it was by summons, he still honestly didn’t expect anything big to come of it. He had spent the past two days searching for all the information he could find about all the people and all the events of the Avvarbor System from the past few years, trying to let the Force guide his research. Padmé had done a little of it with him, but mostly he’d been doing it on his own, and he had nothing, not even any gut feelings. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Yoda about his lack of success, but he figured once he had confessed it, there wouldn’t be further discussion left to be had.

The first minute or so in Yoda’s private interview chamber didn’t make him think otherwise either. He entered and knelt, and Yoda stood by the shuttered window, staring out at its slats. “Cloudy, you are,” he said to him. “Around you, the clouds gather, great and dark.”

“I would think they gather around us all,” he replied.

“But feel them more, you do,” said Master Yoda as he turned towards him and came to sit down. “Because of your Padawan. Careful, you must be.”

“I know,” he said. He would never admit it to anyone else, how he couldn’t help fearing for her life. That his last Padawan had been killed by the Sith made that worse. So far he’d been meditating it out, but the fear kept creeping its way back in something by as much as being in her company or so much as hearing her voice in the other room, wrapping a tight tendril around his heart, which screamed at the injustice of it. She was one of the brightest and kindest souls Mace Windu had met in all his years. She ought not to be killed by the Sith.

“Careful,” Master Yoda repeated. “Especially because to the Avvarbor System, you must go, and with you, she should go.”

That he had not been expecting. He had been aware that he himself might go, but even that had not seemed likely; he had thought there would be too much chance of the Sith seeing that and guessing why; so far it was hard to believe they could know their transmissions had been detected. “Why both of us?”

“A child, she is not. When sent to lure out the Sith, you were, that was one thing. But this mission…not one to keep her away from. Especially not when too long in the Temple has she lingered.”

“What exactly are we to do, then?” Mace asked. He saw Yoda’s point, and there was nothing he had said that Mace hadn’t at times thought himself. But yet he still thought he could only be sure of such things when he knew every last detail of where they would be going and what they would be doing and who they were going to be dealing with.

“A general information finding mission, this will be. Some time, it may take; your Padawan you will need also because you both will need to look. Places, you must look in, people, you must talk to, interviews, trying to find out if anyone has seen anything out of the ordinary. Know, you do, that Padawan Naberrie may form connections with people; confidences, she can get from them, where you can not.” Yes, Mace knew that too. And yet now for the first time he thought about how being the one to really get associated with the civilians and spend all the time with them also increased the danger to her.

Also, he was no fool, and he knew how Master Yoda thought, as least as well as anyone besides he himself did. “Are you hoping she will lure the Sith to us?” he asked. “That he may be willing to come for us specifically because as a Padawan, she would be a weaker target?”

“Hope, I do not,” was the reply, which said everything, even before the old Grandmaster said, “But know also, you do, what is at stake here. This is why I saw that careful, you must be.”

Mace Windu understood. Even if it wasn’t his actual agenda, if it ultimately happened, and resulted in bringing even one Sith Lord down, Master Yoda would feel no regret, even if Padmé didn’t survive. He would feel sorrow, of course, and Mace believed he would feel it deeply and for all of the likely many years he had left. He would not see the sacrifice as nothing; indeed he would see it as being as far from nothing as it could be. But he still wouldn’t flinch from it.

Meanwhile, Mace himself would have to do the same thing. Unless some shatterpoint appeared to him to direct his path to a place less painful-or perhaps more. All he had was hope that the will of the Force would not demand her life from Padmé when she was still so young.

Not that he could ever explain any of this to her. There were too few Jedi who understood things like he and Master Yoda did, and she would never be one of them; that was not what she was meant for.

“A few more days, it will be,” said Master Yoda. “Find more information, we should first try to do. But not very long. Two weeks, at most.”

Mace was glad for that. Aside from that meaning more time to prepare practically, it gave him time to prepare, to detach himself, all without Padmé sensing not so much a blip in the Force anywhere around him.

 

####  **About a week later**

 

Things had changed between Padmé and her Master after he’d gotten her to confess she and Anakin were looking into Master Dooku. When he told her about their upcoming mission, he showed her the maps of all their possible destinations, which was not surprising, but then he told her to think about where she thought they should go first. She wasn’t sure how much he’d ultimately listen to her, but that was definitely new. During the preparations that had to be done if a mission was to last more than a month or so he left her largely to her own devices, trusting her to pack what she needed to pack and talk to whom she needed to talk to without being directed.

And when the date was set for their departure, he informed his Padawan he would spend the entire day before in meditation, and told her she should get some meditation in herself sometime during the day, but also that she could decide who to see and tell that the two of them were going to be away from the Temple for some time. Having her schedule completely to herself meant not only could she take as much time as she wanted with saying goodbye to Anakin, but she could also take the time out to talk to Master Jinn about teaching him more about hacking.

When she got to their quarters she found Anakin alone; he had the vague idea that Master Jinn was off with Obi-Wan somewhere. “It’s kind of strange, really,” he said. “They’ve always spent a lot of time together without ever telling me what they’re doing. I didn’t think too much of when I was younger, but now I wish they wouldn’t keep something they’re always doing from me. Does Master Windu meet up with Master Billaba like that all the time?”

“They did that once,” said Padmé. “Three years ago; I never knew what it was about. But not repeatedly. But all Masters are different. Maybe you’ll find out when you’re knighted.”

They didn’t talk too much about it, though, because they wanted a chance to talk about themselves too, and they also had to discuss her upcoming proposal to Master Jinn. “I wish I could help you,” said Anakin. “But I’m not sure it’s safe for me to even be in the same place. I’m not sure you shouldn’t try to take a walk with him or something.”

“Well,” said Padmé, “Master Windu does want me to meditate sometime today. I could ask him to guide me in one of the gardens.”

“Deceive him and then let him look into your mind right afterwards?!”

“That I can take care of.” Padmé did not smile, because it was not appropriate to. “After all, my feelings by then should be just what he expects.”

Master Jinn came back alone, and Padmé started with the news about the prolonged mission. “You aren’t allowed to tell me any details, are you?” Master Jinn asked with a kind smile, before she had to say it. “I’m sure Anakin wasn’t happy to hear that.”

“Not any of it,” said Anakin. “But I understand she has to go.”

“And I have to do some meditation today, and I thought maybe you could give me some guidance for it in one of the gardens, help me with the Living Force.” Awkward way to make the request, but it was one made up of two true statements. “Are you free right now?”

“More or less. Very well, then. Anakin, if you could meet me in the refectory for lastmeal at 1900?”

“You don’t like keeping things from me, do you?” asked Master Jinn as they were headed towards the Rock Garden. “I sense guilt in you, and a heavy burden of concealment. Also that you have something to tell me.”

Padmé had been hoping he’d interpret her feelings that way. “I have a suggestion, actually,” she said. “And this isn’t from my Master; it was completely my idea. I think you should have Anakin trained better in hacking. I mean, he’ll learn it much better, since he already knows a lot about computers, and for the kind of investigating you want us doing, it’s something one of us has to get good at.”

He showed no immediate reaction; she hadn’t really expected him to. She made a guess at his main reservation: “Do you think he’s less suited to it in personality?”

“If you will not tell him this…”

“Of course not.” She wouldn’t, though she might feel some sorrow over it. Or a lot.

“I don’t regret our attempt to get him into the communications room,” he said. “Although I do wish very much it had actually worked, given I had to let him do this. Because I do nonetheless worry about encouraging him to be disobedient.”

“You don’t have to do anything right away,” she said, “and I think this is a skill he should learn sooner or later; it matches the gifts the Force has given him.” She had to cut her thoughts off on the matter there, though, so she asked, “Have you talked to him about your concerns?”

“Not recently, but he knows them. If he remembers them.”

There was the opportunity for telling him a powerful truth: “Master Jinn, I am certain Anakin has never forgotten a thing you’ve ever said to him. Or anything you’ve made clear to him without outright saying it.” That got an emotional reaction within him strong enough she could sense it through his shields. _Keep going._ She could hear Master Windu say it in her head. “You could even use it as an opportunity to talk to him about this. Sweeten your words with the promise of him getting to learn something I know he wants to know.”

“Not yet,” said Master Jinn, but he was clearly going to think about it, which was what Padmé had been hoping for. There’d be plenty of time while she was away. Maybe not enough for him to go forward with it, but even that wasn’t impossible.

“I’ll help you however I can,” she told him, because she would. “Do whatever you’d need me do to, give whatever reminders you want me to give.” He knew that already, and he was right to. She didn’t think he even looked into her mind for that one.

“I’d be grateful for the help,” he said. “Although I don’t know if you could truly keep much from him…but hopefully you won’t have to.”

They were nearing the rock garden now. Padmé kept talking, just a little more effort. “I imagine he must be a handful as a Padawan, Anakin. Sometimes I wonder if my own Master could’ve handled him.” More truths, very much so. “Of course I’m going to abide by your judgement when it comes to him.”

“You shouldn’t try to flatter me,” Master Jinn told her, but it was gentle. “Even if you do mean it. Besides, to do the kind of in depth Living Force meditation I want to teach you today, you should start clearing your mind now.”

“Yes, Master Jinn,” she said, and set to work at it. She’d worked on this with her own Master recently, getting to the point where she could get her mind as empty as the vacuum of space with very little effort.

About a minute later they stepped into the Rock Garden, and Padmé Naberrie was thinking of nothing but the sight of the rocks before her, the way they were scattered about the grass and the other various planets, the feel of the pebbles at the entrance under her boots, the smell of the sediment-filled dirt.

“Come over here.” Master Jinn led her to a spot in the garden, one where long dark stones formed loops all around them and the soil between them was mostly sand. “Kneel.” The sand was fine enough to get into her leggings as she obeyed, but Padmé made no protest, still thought of nothing but it smushing around her knees. Master Jinn knelt opposite her. “This might strike you as an odd place,” he said, “to try to meditate on the Living Force.” It hadn’t; she wasn’t thinking about such things because now was not the time to think about them. “But I find it best to do it in a place where you have to reach out slightly-but only slightly, because there is still plenty of life right around us.”

When he finally entered her mind a few minutes later, he found it filled with nothing but her awareness of the Living Force. Had anyone at that moment asked her about Anakin Skywalker, or about Dooku, she would’ve needed a moment to remember who they were. He, of course, had no reason to.

 

####  **The Next Morning**

 

It had been, surprisingly, some time since Mace and his Padawan had left Coruscant on public or commercial transit, even discounting the amount of time she hadn’t left Coruscant at all and he’d only left it once. But that was what they ended up doing. They took one of the Temple’s vehicles to the Senate building, accompanying two other Jedi who happened to have that as a destination, but after that they boarded a bus to Westport, stood together and tried to ignore how everyone in the crowded vehicle looked at their cloaked and hooded figures at least once, and how not all the glances were friendly ones. At Westport, boarding a ship going to the Avvarbor System involved a lengthy line which was much of the same, except thankfully neither the people just ahead nor the people just behind looked for long.

Ahead of them was a very tall man Mace thought to be Arkanian from his eyes, who was as indifferent to having a pair of Jedi behind him as one would expect a member of that species to be. Behind them was a dark-skinned human family that he thought were probably Avvarbor natives from their dress, consisting of a father, mother, and pair of twin boys. One of those boys did initially tug at his mother’s dress and talk about the Jedi, but she just reminded him they’d seen Jedi here on Coruscant already. It turned out to be a good thing they thus didn’t have anyone hostile to them around them, because as they presented their boarding passes to the Bith, he handed each of them a chip with a compartment number on it, the compartment in which they would spend the next day and a half the trip would take, and he was quick to spot they were being handed out in groups, and that the Arkanian and the Avvarbor family had chips with the same number. The Arkanian noticed this too, looking over the family as the two parents help their children over the gap between the spaceport floor and the threshold of the ship, and shrugged as if in mild irritation with his lot in life.

His actions made Padmé notice too, but of course her reaction was quite different, he saw how even through her hood she met the eyes of one of the boys, and she must have winked at him or something, because his face split into a huge grin.

They’d been late to board, which meant they had quite a walk to their compartment. They didn’t make it there before both boys were making complaints-in their own language, but the tone made the general drive of their words obvious. The Arkanian glared at them, which had absolutely no effect, no matter how long he did it. Mace himself mostly tuned them out, but he did pay careful attention to how it affected Padmé. Her soft spot for children was something he’d never even tried to train out of her; some things were simply too much part of who a person was.

At last they reached their destination, though one of the boys exclaimed his dismay when he saw what waited for them. The compartment had in it a pair of long, narrow seats on either side of it, and while the covering on them looked comfortable enough, there was the question of if they were going to be able to sleep when there wouldn’t be room for any of them to lay down. He and Padmé would have no problem, of course, but the civilians would be another matter. And even outside sleeping, it would be unpleasantly crowded for all of them when they’d be sitting there for as long as this was going to take.

The Arkanian hastily hurried in and claimed the end of the seat to the left that was right by the viewport. Mace himself sat in the other corner. Padmé sat next to him. The parents herded their children in, and on their direction they plopped down next to the Jedi, while their mother and father set themselves down opposite Mace, probably just to be far away from the being on the other side of the seat.

The children did quiet down then, but even so, Mace was preparing to just taking himself down into meditation as quickly as possible. But before he could start, he heard Padmé ask them softly, “Are you afraid of the takeoff? It’s not true, you know, that people break apart from the inertia or get horribly sick or explode or anything like that.”

“I know that,” said one of the boys; his Basic was accented, but he could speak it. “Roomo is scared, not me.” Roomo objected to that loudly.

“I’m sure you’re both very brave boys,” she said, and out of the corner of his eye Mace watched her remove her hood, which no doubt left the boys feeling easier; children always liked Padmé when they saw her face. “Was this your first time being off your homeworld?”

“First time for any of us,” said their mother. She held out her hand, and Padmé took it. “Noonnie Ersu. This is my husband Taleb, and our sons are Roomo and Urch.” She held it out to Mace next, who gamely lowered his hood and shook it, and then to the Arkanian, who just sat there and ignored them all.

“We didn’t mean to go to Coruscant,” said Urch. “We meant to go to Chandrila. But our ship went to the wrong place.”

“Really?” A shocked Padmé looked to Noonnie and Taleb for confirmation.

He nodded. “It was a crazy thing. We got our tickets and go on the ship, which was a small one, and we were at a platform that said ‘Departure for Chandrila,’ and the ticket taker should’ve noticed if we were getting on the wrong ship, and also everyone else on it had also bought tickets for Chandrila and thought we were going there. It was droid-piloted, and even when someone realized we were going to the wrong planet, they still wouldn’t even talk to us, let alone change course. After we landed, we all made a complaint, of course, and I think most of the other passengers focused on getting passage to Chandrila for free. But when the hotel chain we’d booked our reservation on offered us a more expensive room here without making us pay any more, we decided we could have our holiday here instead.”

“Coruscant may not be the place people come to holiday,” said Noonnie, “but we found it quite fascinating…”

Mace didn’t really pay attention to all the details she went into, the various things on the planet they’d gone to see. Instead he exchanged a quick look with Padmé, and she had sensed it too: there was some significance to the whole business with the ship. He was also aware that such a thing out to have been on the newsnets, and he hadn’t seen it anywhere, and didn’t think she had either, but they might have just missed it.

She was listening to the woman, however, and it might be for the better if during the next day and a half she was able to talk about their adventures with these people, so Mace let her. She was perfect at it, even gasping when Taleb talked about finding out those things about the bus systems every resident of Coruscant knew about by the time they were ten, and sounding very eager to hear anything either of the two children wanted to tell her about.

The takeoff happened in the middle of Noonnie’s account of the previous evening, when they’d gone to see a show in one of the small downlevels theaters that most of those aspiring to make it on the Coruscanti stage started off in. One of the two boys reached over and clutched at the other’s hands, but that was as far as they went. Oddly, the Arkanian actually seemed to find it more difficult to deal with. For nearly two whole minutes he broadcast a great deal of distress through the Force, and when Mace looked, he could see he was a touch clenched into himself, and his hands had curled on his lap.

Once everyone was talking like this, and there were two young children involved, it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to talk to the stranger the adults would’ve left alone. It finally happened just after the transport’s intercom announced they had cleared the gravity field. By then the Arkanian was looking a little better, and maybe that was why Roomo thought it might be okay to lean forward as far as he could without slipping off the seat and ask, “What about you, sir? Do you live on Coruscant?”

“Roomo, don’t bother the old man,” said Noonnie.

“Like we shouldn’t bother the Eppies?” asked Urch, irritated.

“Now, Urch, don’t call them that,” his mother scolded; since it was a pejorative term applied to the Eposulates, one of those closed-off communities, who filled an isolated city on the main continent of Avvarbor Prime’s northern hemisphere.

“Why were they all in the spaceport, anyway?” asked Roomo. “They never leave their city, and suddenly they all wanted to go somewhere?”

“You think maybe it was because of the Mad Runner?” wondered Urch. “That he really exists?”

Master and Padawan met each other’s eyes again, and a little longer this time, as Taleb protested, “You know most of the stories they tell about the Eposulates aren’t true. The media’s always trying to slander them, just because they’re different from us, which is wrong of them. And even there was some crazy person running around their town, that wouldn’t explain why so many of them were leaving the planet. And it wasn’t all of them; in fact, it was probably just a tiny fraction.”

There probably was only so much about this that they wanted their kids to hear, but even so, Padmé carefully asked, “What is this Mad Runner, exactly? Is it something we should worry about? Or we might be asked to deal with?”

“Those Eposulates would never let you even if he does exist,” said Noonnie. “They’re probably trying to handle the matter without getting any outside authorities involved, again, if there’s any truth to the story. Basically there’s a rumor going around our homeworld of Avvarbor Prime that there’s a crazy person in this city called Ruuger’s, hurting and killing people. Ruuger’s is this city entirely inhabited by these people who call themselves the Eposulates. They founded the city about eighty years ago, led by someone called Toona Pir, who preached about how our government no longer represented the people in general, but was serving certain groups and treating everyone else badly. They won’t let the authorities do anything in Ruuger’s; when they’ve tried, the Epolusates have been violent towards them. Nowadays they are mostly left alone; the government no longer thinks it worth it to try to do anything about them. Like we said, they mostly stay in their city. They grow their own food in biodomes and make everything they need themselves. None of us have any of idea of even how many people live in their city, let alone who they are, so we can’t really know anything about what’s happening there.”

“Well,” said Urch, “except that I heard one of them say that his sister disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” asked Padmé.

“Yep, just went away and he didn’t know where she was. Maybe the Mad Runner took her away. Or maybe she didn’t want to see him and ran away from the city. I know there are people who do that sometimes.”

“Probably she just ran away,” said Taleb.

Maybe she did, Mace thought, but maybe the Mad Runner had had something to do with it. It was a lead worth following anyway when they got to the system, especially if Padmé could get more information out of this family first.


	9. Colorpa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mace and Padmé arrive on Avvarbor Prime, and have an unwelcome encounter.

Mace was awoken from his final traveling nap by their coming entirely out of lightspeed. Padmé was awake already, talking away to the boys. Not the easiest task; he and his Padawan were probably the only ones in the compartment who’d made it through the past day and a half while still sleeping enough, and two young children who were lacking in sleep were not two nice children. She seemed to mostly be asking questions about the city, simple things like how to get around and how big was it and what neighborhoods to avoid, sometimes asking for information the two of them had already, but often trying to get the useful “on the ground” information that wouldn’t have made it into what they’d read about a planet and the places on it. Their answers were pretty short.

At one point Noonnie, seeing how Padmé wasn’t getting much help from her sons, answered a question about the public transit in the city they were landing in herself: “Don’t try to take the skyliners. Everyone wants to take them, but they’re terribly maintained, often loaded over capacity, and the lines that say they go out of the city usually don’t have any units running that far more often than every couple of hours, if that.”

“So a poorly maintained system, then?” asked Padmé. Not surprising; those were everywhere. Although still enlightening for what it said about the government the inhabitants of Ruuger’s had turned their back on.

It was also illuminating when Taleb added, “Give the way transport is between cities in general, it kind of isn’t surprising everyone in one of them would decide trying to deal with any of the others just isn’t worth it. I still wonder how all those Eposulates even got to Colorpa in the first place. Did they walk?”

“Probably went into those huge vans you see everywhere in Fikio-that’s not that far from Ruuger’s, after all. Couldn’t have been a pleasant journey, though. Granted, a lot of the roads in that area are taken care of by Fikio’s government, even the ones they aren’t officially responsible for, but you figure the roads just outside Ruuger’s must be awful. The government barely got them built without the protests turning violent.”

“So cities are responsible for the maintenance of the roads outside them?” Mace asked. He and Padmé had known that already, which had made him worried she wouldn’t ask, and he wanted them talking about this.

“They’re responsible for everything,” said Urch, which they’d also known.

“So does anyone resent Ruuger’s? It doesn’t sound like they pull their share.”

“If we’ve do, we’ve a right to,” said Taleb, which was a yes, at least on his part. Also made it unlikely Mace should risk continuing on his current line of questioning; he had at least gotten the impression of resentments he'd been checking for.

They were running low on time, anyway, just then came the announcement over the intercom: “Attention, passengers. We are currently approaching our destination of Avvarbor Prime, and we expect to be entering the gravity field in about twenty more minutes, and should be touched down within an hour after that. Please be advised that you should be secured in your seats within the next half an hour.”

“You two should use the ‘fresher,” Noonnie said to the boys. “I’ll take you.”

The ‘fresher wasn’t far outside the compartment, but there would be a line. Mace wondered if Padmé would admit to herself the relief it would be to have a break from being surrounded by so many cranky minds, two of them juvenile. The downside to her empathy was she suffered more from it.

Indeed, her tone did sound a little lighter as she said to Taleb, “I hope there isn’t too much hostility between the cities. We’ll be traveling between them a lot while we’re here.”

“I would think,” he said, smiling, “you’d be more worried about hostility towards yourselves as Jedi.”

“Oh, is there some of that?”

“Here and there,” he shrugged. “More in some cities than others. I suspect it would be worse if you got into Ruuger’s, but who knows what they think there about anything offworld. You want to be especially careful in Myzine.”

“We know about the unfortunate incident that happened with the Jedi there twenty years back,” said Mace. It hadn’t actually been that unfortunate an incident; there hadn’t even been anyone killed, but he had the feeling it was seen as one.

“Of course you do,” he said. “Just count yourself lucky nobody thinks much of the high-stepping people of Myzine outside their own city. Word-hawking, hair-sweeping, stuck up whirlers they are; everyone knows that. They probably even know it in Ruuger’s.”

By the time Noonnie came back with the boys, Padmé had managed to get the kind of details their arrival point of Colorpa and the surrounding cities the travel guides didn’t always provide, such as the governmental turmoil in Astromi, the recent rise of a youth movement with deeply disturbing values in Moki, and potential health hazards nobody was admitting to in Fikio. She even kept him talking about a kid-friendly version of a feud that was taking place in one of Colorpa’s least reputable neighborhoods after the rest of his family returned.

“I’m hoping we’ll land to the news that the whole thing’s over,” said Taleb, finishing his account. “It would be nice to not get anxious every time two people on the bus look like they might be hostile to each other…” At that moment, the ship began to decelerate, and his next words were lost in a pained groan. Next to him his wife clung tightly to the seat, and their children looked downright sick, though nothing worse came from them besides quiet noises of pain. It was easy for the two Jedi, of course, to let the Force take them just enough that they did not truly feel the crashing out of lightspeed.

They were out of it. The family gasped for breath, and Noonnie murmured something which sounded less than polite under her breath.

And then, the Arkanian, who had barely spoken through the entire journey, said, his voice slightly above normal volume and very, very precise, “A few of them are leaving the system, and with it, the group, but most of the Eposulates have been bound for Ilborbor.”

“How do you know that?” Mace demanded. “Why are you only telling us that now? Why should we even believe you?”

“On Coruscant I happened to get acquainted with a former Eposulate. I did not tell you because I did not wish to spend the entire journey here being interrogated, Master Windu.” He spoke the name with clear emphasis; he no doubt knew him already by reputation. “You don’t need to believe, me, of course, since I know you can’t sense deception in most Arkanians, but I suspect you will. You could try to go to their city to ask them there, of course, but I too share the impression that those you would find there would be reluctant to answer you.”

It was true they couldn’t sense deception, or all but the strongest of other emotions, from Arkanians, but nonetheless Mace’s feelings still told him this one was nominally telling him the truth, if perhaps also leaving something out.

“Well,” said Padmé thoughtfully, “we could probably still get that they were going to Ilborbor confirmed, if we asked enough people.”

“You two,” sighed the Arkanian, “I have no doubt at least you, Master Windu, are now thinking of tracking me down in the spaceport and forcing me to tell you more…”

“Well, he shouldn’t have to!” interrupted Urch. “You should tell him everything now.”

The Arkanian gave him an extremely patronizing look. He seemed completely unaffected by it, or by the gestures his parents made towards him. “These Jedi want to help us,” he insisted. “You shouldn’t keep information from them. That information might save lives!”

And then Padmé said, softly, “It might, you know.”

He turned that condescending look to her now; she, too, didn’t flinch. “Do you believe me?” she asked.

“You…” He finally sighed. “Yes, you I believe.”

Then he said, “The Eposulate I met in Coruscant said their community is breaking apart, has been since Toona Pir’s death, and there are currently two main factions in the city, after the leader of the third-the one the leaving Eposulates sided with-died of an apparent heart attack. One of them is for increasing the city’s population by getting aggressive in their recruiting. The other thinks there are too many people there and are advocating for a purge-and some of the members of that faction don’t think they should merely banish those they decree unworthy. The latter is also rumored to be in contact with some very unsavory characters not from the city, and possibly not even from the planet; there are stories of their leaders going outside the city walls at night to meet with a mysterious hooded figure, or possibly even bringing him within the walls.”

He spoke this last part as if he didn’t believe it, but that was fine. There was no need for him to.

 

####  **A Few Hours Later**

 

Traveling on the main continent of Avvarbor Prime could be a tricky issue. Mace and Padmé tried to make it easy as possible for themselves by spending their first three hours on the planet trying to get pre-cleared for entry into as many cities as possible. The people who had the power to grant it seem to vary widely in their opinions of Jedi. One practically ran them to another whose help was needed, only to see that person make them sit for an eternity while blatantly bringing up to the counter just about every person who came in after them, until Mace finally threatened to bring in the authorities and cause the entire spaceport embarrassment he was pretty sure they didn’t want.

There was no process for Ruuger’s City, of course. Padmé did make a point of asking at one of the information kiosks, and had the man there laugh at her face for her pains. “We don’t have to go within the city walls just yet,” Mace noted as they walked away from that one. “We can start by investigating the outskirts. So long as we have pre-clearance for enough of the neighboring cities, they can’t send us away from there, at least not by legal means.” There were four other cities in that area; by the end of the day they had pre-clearance for three.

The entire three hours Mace also quietly kept track of the Arkanian through the Force, but he didn’t seem to be doing anything remarkable; just went to one of the hotels adjoining the spaceport and stayed there. Bothering him further right then didn’t seem like the best strategy. That left them with one obvious thing to do next: see if they could find anything out about what a ship bound for Chandrila had gone to Coruscant instead.

For that, Mace made a very quick call to Master Yoda about two hours after landing, and an hour and a half after that he called back to tell them the Council had agreed to their mission’s new pretense. So Padmé by him on his left, he requested to see the spaceport manager, and thankfully there no one tried to stall with them or mislead them. Presumably they figured it was too important a situation for them to dare.

The manager, who went by the family name of Uied, wasn’t human, which was mildly surprising, since the system’s population mostly was. He was a dark and thick skinned being about Mace’s height, and seemed unbothered by the Jedi’s gaze as he lowered his hood, while Padmé for the time being kept her own up. He knew her mind was on the staff gathered outside Uied’s office, probably speculating as to what they were doing there, though they were not to be privy to this meeting. “What brings a pair of Jedi to my office, feeling they themselves must speak to me?” he asked, but there was more bluster in his words than anything else. He would ultimately accept their claim, and not be skeptical about his own importance in the galactic scheme of things.

“I assume you have heard about this already,” said Mace, “but 16 days ago, a ship unexpectedly arrived at Coruscant…” He told the story as the Ersus had told it to them, though he spoke more of the general events than of their experience, and made it a version that sounded like it had been told by someone official, rather than by someone who had experienced it. “This is a matter of very great concern,” he said to Uied, who was emitting very strong distress in the Force, “and we must find out the reason for it. Some sort of computer issue seems the most likely culprit, but if there is any chance that sabotage was involved…”

“I have known about the _Zarlot 3_ , yes,” he said. “I can tell you that we’ve looked into the logs it put into the spaceport before departure, and they all indicate the ship was planning to go to Chandrila. Whatever got into those droids didn’t get into them through any of the spaceport’s computer systems.”

“When did you first start looking? Was there perhaps any chance for hacking to be covered up?”

“I doubt it, Master Jedi. We take the integrity of our systems very seriously here, given what could happen if one of them went wrong.” Mace sensed no deception from him there. “We have had people try to hack us, and we are very good at detecting some trace of it. We even have a hacker of our own on the staff to fight back. Believe me, the moment we heard about the _Zarlot 3_ , she worked almost constantly for ten hours straight, looking for any trace of tampering. She found nothing.”

So the itinerary had to have been changed on the ship itself, either before or after it had spent its time being prepped and boarded, even though before would’ve meant complicated work, to keep the changes from being transmitted to the spaceport, and after would have to have been done by one of the passengers, and done before the ship made the jump to hyperspace at the latest. “Do you happen to have a list of all the passengers on board?”

“Not a complete one, though passengers can enter their information into our systems for convenience. Many don’t, and if there were any of those Eppies on board, they probably didn’t. Still, at least that means there’s no problem with me giving it to you; they waive their privacy over it.”

Such a list probably wouldn’t be of much use, but Mace took it anyway. “If there were any abnormalities you or anyone else happens to remember, no matter how small they may seem…”

“I’ll repeat that to my staff,” said Uied, and Mace doubted their chances of getting much out of them either, unless it came tonight before they left the city. They weren’t going to sleep in it; they had too much traveling to do.

They left the spaceport after that, walking slowly and taking a route nearer to the staff offices, just in case anyone came running. Padmé, still the young optimist, kept taking slight glances in the general direction of the staff-only doors, but, as Mace had sadly expected, no one came bursting through them with vital information that had them running to do something dramatic.

Instead they emerged into Colorpa, and the most impacting thing they would see that night was the city spread below them. It ran downhill most of the way, a gentle cascade of shimmering lights in the earliest parts of the evening, the structures surprisingly flat, most of them two or three floors at most, it looked like, although they knew the more expensive ones had more underground. Much taller were the city walls; they were visible in the distance as thick glowing lines. Towards the center was a dark hole which Mace thought was probably due to an outage; there was light enough to see that structures aplenty were built there. Everything else was well lit indeed, as were the roads they could see going beyond the walls. The buildings were tightly packed in, too, sometimes it was difficult to tell if there was space at all within the clumps of some of them, and it didn’t look like there were very many other open spaces either. Through the Living Force, Mace could sense the high density of the city’s inhabitants, and the relative lack of other kinds of life.

That was probably what Padmé paid the most attention too. She looked out at the city and said, “This is the most heavily populated city in this part of the continent, isn’t it? With many inhabitants not very well off.”

“That is true,” said Mace. “Be careful for pickpockets.”

The public transit system within the city was a good one, especially from going from the spaceport to the outskirts. The station was barely a minute’s walk from the spaceport entrance, they caught a bus in even less time. Ten minutes later Calorpa had rushed past them as a fast-running line of lights outside the bus windows, and they were in a holding alcove waiting for the longbus to Myzine.

Transportation out of the city, as they had been warned, was another matter. They had the misfortune to arrive right after one bus had departed, and the next one was two hours local, which was longer than two hours standard, away. It seemed the less glamorous longbuses sometimes weren’t any better than the skyliners. As a result, the earliest hours of the morning found them sitting in the middle of an empty stop, the din of the city surprisingly loud behind them, neither of them in any state to sleep, in too public a location to get away with proper meditation, and, once the incomplete passenger list was read through with little jumping out at them, with absolutely nothing to occupy them.

For the first half-hour of their wait, Mace semi-meditated instead, sublimating his awareness away from there and into everything he could sense through the Force coming out of Colorpa. He found nothing worth noting, though, and eventually he came back to check in with Padmé, and found her holding herself rigid. He had noticed during his meditation that there was a good deal of misery in the city at this moment, more than once would expect even from such a place.

When she noticed he had come out of it, she asked, “I’m wondering where that family we traveled with is right now.”

“You shouldn’t worry about them,” he said gently. “There’s no reason to believe anything bad is happening to them.” Then he sensed something else. “Also, someone’s coming…” A moment later the shatterpoint came into crystal clear focus. Also the dark intent. “Stay here.”

The newcomer was male, probably around thirty years standard, and an inhabitant of the planet. When he got closer to him, Mace mostly sensed anger, but not hot anger. Rather the underlying rage and resentment of someone who had been ill treated for a very long time, and was likely happy to find any target to lash out at. Also, there was fatigue, and hunger, both of them also long-term; this was a man who lived a life of deprivation.

By the time he had positioned himself to take the man down, the only thing Mace felt for him was pity. Not that he could allow that to cloud his mind. He was especially glad he’d left Padmé where she was sitting. She’d never faced this kind of foe, he could not be absolutely certain about her abilities to steel herself, and now was not the situation in which to test that, if it could be avoided.

He was likely not a man who had any understanding of how formidable his targets were; he might have been told, but had not comprehended. There was a disturbing bit of malice and glee when Padmé came within his sights, and she was alone. Mace did not allow himself to react to it, however, and waited until the man had run forward before he leapt from the shadows. He had brought three weapons with him, but they were still all easily knocked away, and by the time Padmé had finished the debate with herself of how to interpret his order and decided to stand in front of her seat with her lightsaber out, he had him in a headlock with his lightsaber blade to his throat.

“Who sent you?” he asked, deadly calm. He didn’t even put any Force Persuasion into it. The way this man was reacting, he wouldn’t need it.

“You think I know?” He was making a show of bravado. Unfortunately, he was also being honest. “Well,” he then added, “it was probably one of the big brass. But I can’t know which one.”

“Big brass?” Mace added. It made sense, that there’d be organized crime in a city like this, and they'd already heard about one alleged feud. Though his instincts told him it actually hadn’t been them. “They hired you through someone else?”

“I’m not giving you my friend’s name,” the man growled. “He wouldn’t know either. By the time you get back to which brass, they’ll have sent someone else.” He didn’t try to conceal the little bit of glee there.

There would likely be quicker ways to find out who was behind this anyway. “You tell me the time your friend came to you with the job,” he hissed.

“Don’t know, maybe about three hours ago.” The hostility rose up within again as he added, “Didn’t offer me as much money as usually goes for these things, but I told him I’d be happy to take a discount if the target was you.”

Padmé was opening her mouth, and Mace knew she was about to launch into a lecture that would fall on deaf ears. He jerked his head to stop her. “Did he know our names?” he asked. “Or did he just say Jedi?”

“He knew ‘em both. Too bad you’ll never know who he is.” That took some gall, on his past. Mace was almost impressed.

He was also sure they’d gotten all they could from him. Now, at least, he brought the Force in, “You will forget about all this. You will walk away and never try to attack any Jedi ever again.” Normally he would’ve turned him over to the authorities, but he wasn’t going to do that when he couldn't be at all sure they hadn't been involved with this attempted hit on them.

“I will forget about all this,” the man repeated as Mace let him go. “I will walk away and never try to attack any Jedi ever again.”

When he had walked away, Padmé deactivated her lightsaber and asked, “Do we leave now? Or do we try to investigate this? Or…”

Mace considered it. They absolutely had to follow up on this. The shatterpoint had made that clear. Except it had felt two-sided to him, like the way to turn these events involved dealing with both this city and the others in the area at once. That meant they had to split up.

He knew which of the two tasks she’d be better at and which one he’d be, so without further hesitation, he said, “You’re going to leave, and do what we’ve been planning to do. I’ll stay here for at least a couple of days, maybe join you later.”

Thankfully she made no protest, just nodded. “We’re going to discuss your exact itinerary before I go,” he said. “Sit down.”

He’d intended to stay there as little time as possible. For all he knew, this trail would go cold fast. But while Padmé had now been out in the field without him for a few hours multiple times, and even almost a whole day once, this was going to be the longest amount of time she would be by far. Depa had nearly gotten killed the first time she’d done that, though that incident hadn’t been anyone’s fault besides that of the person who’d tried to kill her. This was fresh in his memory, and despite the irrationally, Mace found himself repeating things to his current Padawan he knew she knew already, talking her through the basic procedures for entering each city. The longbus pulled up to find him giving her frantic last-minute advice for what to look for in Myzine.

They both stood up. She took his hand, and he let her. “I won’t let you down, Master,” she said to him.

“Don’t let yourself down, Padawan,” he replied.

She let go and stepped back, and then turned to board the longbus. Its automatic door had slammed shut behind her even before she reached the driver to pay the fare, and the bus had zoomed away barely a moment after that; as soon as the payment had been confirmed, Mace assumed. It all happened fast enough to blow his hood right off his head, and though he could sense Padmé’s presence in the Force, it was already rapidly fading into the distance.

He let it go. If something went wrong, he’d know it immediately, no matter how far away she was. Until then, it was no use having his mind on her.

Instead he opened it up to the city, let himself take in everything, all the joy and sorrow and anger and pain that most of the Order’s Jedi lacked the ability to connect to. He’d never even try to teach this skill to Padmé. For a minute or so, it was even too much for him to bear. A single tear escaped him, he thought too much of all the Jedi couldn’t do, all the things he himself would have to leave be as he went about what he would do tonight.

A moment later the grief was released away into the Force, and he was free to feel past the emotions, to the intent. That was harder still; thoughts themselves could not truly be read through the Force unless someone outright gave them over, which was not something anyone currently alive could do. But the presence of conniving could be found, of focused minds. He laid what he found out against what he knew of the geography of the city, what he’d read about on the voyage here, what that family on the ship had told them.

Two places of interest stuck out to him. One would have been preferable, obviously, but he could work with two. Cloak drawn tight about him, mind still attuned to the Force, Mace moved forward through the darkness, back into the city.


	10. Myzine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling on her own, Padmé picks up both a friend and a foe.

The first few times Padawans were sent forth to work apart from their Masters for a significant period of time, it was impossible to help the feeling of freedom, a little time away from supervision. This was even more true when the Master in question was as strict a one as Master Windu. It wasn’t like Padmé wasn’t long used to being away from him, when he’d gone on the missions too dangerous to take her with him, although of course the feeling of freedom wasn’t nearly as strong when one was still in the Temple. And she was a little nervous, of course, taking on a prolonged task without him on a planet they’d only just landed on, with the threat of the Sith ever hovering over them. But she also couldn’t help but feel excitement, enough so it took her some time to get herself to sleep on the ten-hour ride to Myzine.

She managed it eventually, though, and got enough sleep that she got off the longbus in Myzine feeling completely refreshed. Had she come here with her Master, they would’ve kept their hoods up, and she would have been restricted to taking furtive glances around at what she could see pasts the edges of hers. But now she threw it back, because surely the risk wasn’t all that great, and let herself take everything in.

Myzine, according to what she’d read, was one of the most architectural innovative cities in the area. The longbus stop was at a low elevation, so she couldn’t see much, but even the stop itself was more creatively arranged than the straight rows of Colorpa, the platforms circling around and even interweaving with each other. They were different colors too, shades that ran into each other. The one she was on was pale blue that paled into white in one direction and darkened in the other. The color design was done so that platforms that intersected each other were the same color.

She pulled her hood back up as she headed uphill, but she still skipped getting a cab in favor of walking, and she still looked around a lot. The buildings around here looked more mundane, but she noticed the setup of the power rods on various sides of the buildings. If Myzine didn’t need actual wires, they were still relying on those, it seemed. She noticed how they were placed on metal window framings and in corners of walkways where they wouldn’t be stepped on. She took that all in to tell Anakin about later. He would really appreciate it.

It was still fairly early in the afternoon when she took lunch at the top of that very tall hill, sitting on one of a set of rotating platforms. She was able then to take off her cloak and shove it against the back of her chair, her lightsaber hidden in its folds. Indistinguishable from the civilians around her at first glance, she spent longer eating than she strictly needed to, stopping often to look down at the city below. It wasn’t just an indulgence; she was also mentally cataloging what she saw, matching areas of the city to the maps she’d looked at, noting even which streets were more crowded than others.

The rest of the afternoon was busier, though. Mace had advised her to go about the city disguised, so that required shopping for local garment, and then also taking a room somewhere to change in, as well as to probably sleep in later. She tried not to take too long, although she did take the time to find something she could carry the lightsaber around in unseen. A couple of hours after lunch was over, she walked out of one of the tower motels in a top that didn’t cover much above her breasts, but as least covered them and everything below them, and an extremely fancy skirt that pouffed out wide around her, and was covered with so many ornaments and tassels that a single cylindrical bump near the top wasn’t even noticeable. Her braid had been undone, and the hair pinned to the top of her head.

“Don’t try to make yourself look older,” Master Windu had advised her. “Anyone you don’t fool could get suspicious, and a number of males you do would solicit you for sex. While I’m not telling you to not have sex under any circumstances, you probably shouldn’t push yourself to that for the sake of the mission, especially not with older males.” So Padmé instead restricted herself to activities more typical of local girls her age, though they were a bit too adolescent for her tastes.

She thus found herself, in the later afternoon, squashed with seven local girls on a large public bench that happened to be halfway up a multistory building, and accessible by bouncing up on the semi-grav pads below. It was crowded enough to keep anyone from noticing she hadn’t had any friends to specifically sit with. From here, they could see Myzine’s busiest streets, and the other girls were scanning for anyone who looked either handsome or unusual. Their silly chatter bounced off Padmé as she mostly agreed with the two girls on either side of her and scanned the roads herself, she didn’t even know for what.

At least she didn’t know what until the Force told her, and she found herself look at a small group of hooded figures on the nearest street. “Hey,” she asked the girl to her right, who seemed to be able to tell more about people by how they were dressed. “Look at those hooded figures over there.”

“Eppies!” exclaimed the girl, confirming what Padmé had already suspected. “What the blong are they doing in Myzine?”

“Don’t use that word, that’s offensive!” snapped the girl on her other side. Padmé was glad one of them had said that.

“Are those really them?” asked another. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.”

“Don’t you watch the news?” asked the girl on the far end. “They’ve been all over it for months.”

“Yeah,” said the girl who had initially identified them. “Couldn’t stay locked up in their own city where at least they won’t brainwash anyone else besides their poor children. You see them preaching and even harassing people in the cities that'll allow it. It’s said they're even going off-planet now to recruit more people.”

How much of that was true, and how much was just her prejudices talking? As the small group of Epostulates got closer, Padmé could sense the Force around them. Stronger than normal for non Force-sensitives, although not to the point where they necessarily were Force-sensitive themselves. It was more likely someone had done something to them with the Force, or, more likely, more than one someone and/or somethings.

The girls moved on to talk about a knot of Red Nikto that had come into view. Padmé turned them out more as she followed the group of Epostulates. When they were nearly out of sight, she pulled open her pouch and tilted her eyes towards it as if she was looking at a chronometer in it, then jumped lightly down, calling back a goodbye in response to the ones shouted out to her.

It was easy enough to track her quarry through the Force. For a little bit of time she just walked behind them, at the same pace they were going, until they started to slow down. When she could get an eye on them through the crowded street, she could see they were looking around, scanning for something. Finally one of them pointed to a building, up high. Padmé looked there herself. It wasn’t a fancily designed building, at least by the city’s standards. It was just one of the standard multi-story darkly-colored shiny steel ones that roughly half of Myzine’s inhabitants lived in. But she noticed that, very much in the direction the Epostulate had pointed, one of the windows had a piece of black cloth hanging down from it.

When they went into the building, Padmé went behind it. Thankfully the buildings were gathered thick enough here no one on the street would see her climb it from the back. It wasn’t the easiest thing to climb, especially in her current skirt; she had to use the Force to propel herself for half of it. She was pretty much in mid-air in her final bound to the roof when the scantily clad and heavily bejeweled woman sunning herself saw her. “Woah!” she cried, jumping and backing up. “Well, I knew you young ladies these days were foolish, but I never thought you were that reckless! What would your parents had said, had you fallen to your death?”

She considered just walked past her, but no; she couldn’t risk the gossip when she didn’t know how long she’d be staying in Myzine yet. Reluctantly she brought the Force to the woman’s mind and said, “You will mention seeing me to no one.” The woman dully repeated it as she headed down the stairs and into the building.

She beat the Epostulates to the right floor by a few minutes, enough time to cut into the ceiling, pulling herself up, and seal the hole back up. Most of the buildings on Avvarbor Prime had their various utilities and other systems above the rooms, and by continuing to draw on the Force Padmé could navigate the thin passage between the floors, squeezing her small body between pipes and through ducts, trying not to damage anything. When she was over the right room, she situated herself with her arms wrapped around the bottom of a heating vent and her legs hooked over what looked like some kind of monitoring computer.

There were six people in the room, mostly of them seeming to just pace about, although two were talking about their longbus ride from Ruuger’s City. One of them had apparently arrived in Myzine two days ago, the others three.

But when the newcomers came in, an older, authoritative voice said, “Ah, my Brother of the Prickles. And these are your three companions. Come in. Let us all sit. We are friends here.” She sensed no deception from her there, which was odd, because there was some ill intent somewhere in that room, even if she couldn’t quite pinpoint whose.

“We arrived here today,” started one voice, the Brother of the Prickles, “and we still don’t know whether or not we’ve been tracked.”

“I had the feeling someone was following us on the streets just now,” said another one of the newcomers.

That briefly made Padmé nervous, but then the Brother of the Prickles said, “I too had the feeling we had not gone unnoticed, but I sensed none of the what we feared around us. I think it likely it was just the reaction of Myzine’s inhabitants to us.”

“You two have taken to the knowledge of our enemy,” said another voice, female. “Should you even be naturally able to?”

A moment’s pause, and then, “…he said we two were among those who could, yes. He….he came to us himself…”

“You’ve met him?” The female voice, excited. “You must tell us about him! We need to know all about him we can!” Her. The ill intent was coming from her.

The second Force-sensitive started, “His face was red and black…” But the first said, “No. No…you are with him!”

Padmé scrambled for her lightsaber, but before she could reach it two tiny explosions rocked the room, the shock of them traveling through the ceiling. She got it and sliced her way down, but it was almost too late. The room was filled with debris and bodies she knew to be dead; the woman had good aim. The only individuals left alive were her and one man, she had down on the floor, her hands around his throat. Both their hoods had fallen, making clear how young they both were.

It at least took only another moment before she had her blade at the woman’s throat. “Let him go,” she hissed. “And then you are both going to answer my questions.”

The girl let go, but hissed, “I’ll tell you nothing.”

Padmé did a quick look into her mind, but no, Force Persuasion wouldn’t work. Master Windu might have had an idea of what to do, but at the moment she didn’t.

Then again, she thought bitterly, Master Windu probably would’ve made sure his lightsaber was at his hand, and would’ve come down here in time to save everyone. It was a bad mistake she’d made, and she wasn’t looking forward to confessing it to him.

For now, she carefully zeroed in pressure to the woman’s head, just enough to knock her unconscious without doing her any lingering injury. Then she deactivated her lightsaber and reached a hand out. The boy drew back. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, if there happens to be any reason you fear for your safety, I’ll protect you. I've heard some things about what's going on with the Eposulates, that some of them want to purge those who aren't unworthy, and that some want to leave, and their leader died of a mysterious heart attack."

“It's...” She watched him fight himself for another moment, before saying, “I don’t trust you. But if any more like her come to Myzine, well, I know what *they* would probably do to me.”

“How many are there like you?” Make her questions sound as natural as possible, Master Windu had said to her. Emphasize that she helped people: “If there’s someone committing mass murder on this planet, I would like to help stop them.”

“I don’t even know,” he said. A gentle, urging look from her, and words spilled out of him fast: “He came to the city over a year ago. Told our chief man he knew the people from the other cities were planning to kill us, and he could teach us how to become so powerful they wouldn’t dare. That fool Tenslowe, he was always believing everyone wanted to kill us. He let the man teach whoever he wanted. Apparently very few people were actually able to become powerful in the way he initially described, but he still managed to convince Tenslowe even those who couldn’t could still learn other things from him.

But the people he taught went strange. A lot of them killed each other, or tried to kill each other. It's them who started talking about purging. A lot of them also turned cold to their friends and stopped smiling, or if they did keep smiling, it was clear to most people they didn’t mean it. And one person, someone who it was said he could teach to do more than anyone else naturally could, he disappeared all together. Some people went to Tenslowe and begged him to send this man away. Then some of those people also turned up mysteriously dead. It seemed the only thing to do by those who understood what was going on was to flee. But yeah, once the first people started talking about it openly their leader died the way you heard. We've been more careful since, but...”

“And what about the man?” Padmé pressed, drawing on everything her Master had taught her to keep herself from getting excited. “Do you know if he is in the city right now?”

He shrugged. “I do know he’s not there all the time, that he goes out to travel all around the galaxy. But I don’t think even the best of his students know every time he leaves or returns, and the rest of us…we’ve tried to figure it out. It’s best to go when he’s not on the planet, obviously. As far as I know he wasn’t there when we left six days ago.”

He probably wasn’t, Padmé thought. In fact, he was probably there a lot less than anyone in the city thought. Which meant that if she was smart about it, they could go there and get a lot of information without any trouble at all. That was something someone needed to do, too, if Darth Maul was really training potential recruits, especially Force-sensitive ones. Going to Ruuger’s City did run, among other risks, the chance that he actually could be there at the moment. He would sense her there right away, and she wasn’t sure she had much chance of getting out of that alive. But it was a chance worth taking.

“Listen,” she said, going for her gentlest, but also her most serious voice. “I’m going to ask you to do something, and I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do, but it might ultimately lead to this man being defeated and the saving of many lives. If you can’t do it, say so, and I know when people are telling the truth, so I’ll believe you. But if you can, I am going to ask you to sneak me into Ruuger’s City.”

“I…” He drifted off for a second, then asked, “Why?”

“I know of this man you speak of,” she said. “I even saw him once, when I was only eleven years old, along with the man who later took me as his apprentice.” She considered saying he’d targeted them specifically, but that might scare the boy too much. “We are here to take him down. My Master’s not with me right now, but he can join us in a few days. For that, we need to know where he will be and when he will be there, so we can prepare. Even the Jedi can’t defeat him without that. If I can get into the city, I might be able to find that out, especially now that I know he’s been there.”

“And what about her?” He jerked his head towards the woman. “Are you going to be dragging her around? Unless you’re going to kill her here.”

“I’m not killing her unless I have absolutely no other choice,” Padmé told him. “I’ve rented a room for the night. I’ll give you directions to the building, then I’ll carry her there, sneak her in, and then come downstairs and let you in.” When he didn’t protest, she knew she had him. “I’ll see what we can do with her once she wakes up; that won’t be for at least a couple of hours.”

She would’ve liked to have a better idea of what exactly she would try first when she woke up. She was sure Master Windu would’ve already known not only that, but what he would try if his first plan failed. But at least she had a general agenda.

 

####  **That Night**

 

It took their captive far too long to wake up. They had the time to not only bind her tightly to the bed with pieces of her hood, but even to go out, get food enough for three, and bring it back. By then the young man had also identified himself to her as Nyder Haff, and said he believed the woman’s name to be Clistara.

It was also time enough for Padmé to think up and evaluate ideas, bouncing them off Nyder as they ate. He expressed a regret he’d never even really talked to her, although when he then talked about how he had at one point been betrayed by someone he’d seen as a friend, Padmé couldn’t be.

When Clistara finally started to stir, Nyder went to sit in a corner of the room, out of her sight. Padmé seated herself in front of her, her ponytail undone but her braid still pinned to the top of her head, although she had changed back into her normal Jedi tunic. After all, the woman knew what she was, even if Padmé was avoiding the more obvious reminders of it for now. Her lightsaber was placed by Nyder, although close enough she could summon it in a tenth of a second if need be.

The first moments of Clistara being awake went exactly as Padmé had anticipated. She looked horrified, than furious, then tried to pull free of her bonds, then spat at her captor. Padmé raised her hand, flicking her fingers to keep the spittle from hitting her, and said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’ll have to,” the girl growled in response. “Otherwise you won’t walk out of this room alive.”

“No,” said Padmé. “If forced to take action to protect myself from you, it’ll simply be to leave you here. I’ll give you a drink of water first and leave the building’s cleaners to find you. By the time they do I’ll be out of the city, and I’m not staying here under my own name.”

“What makes you think I won’t chase after you?” She took a moment too long and spoke her words a little too fast; she didn’t have the means. "How you going to deal with that, huh?"

“I’d keep you from hurting anyone, and keep trying to talk to you as opportunities came up. I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she let her feelings pour into that one, tried to make Clistara realize she meant it.

She didn’t; she shook her head and sneered, “No, I know what Jedi think of me, because of who I work for. I know what they think of everyone with powers besides themselves! Even the ones in our own city. Well, we fooled our leader, and now we're going to make him pay.”

“What you think you know about us is wrong,” said Padmé. “And I don’t know why you chose the side you’ve chosen, but I know there are reasons people will do that, and understandable ones. Most often they’re to do with feeling powerless, and angry, and wanting to hurt the universe.” Watching the girl’s face, she knew she’d guessed exactly right. “I’m sure you’ve had more than one person mistreat you, more than one group of people you’re angry at. Maybe even including the Jedi, unless you just didn’t care about us much before maybe someone came into your life who talked a lot about how horrible we are.”

“They’re always talking about you people,” growled Clistara. “All the big people. They’ve done it all my life. Not just about the Jedi, about those on this planet and those in the galaxy who hold all the power. The best thing we can do is to not let them rule us. But they don’t like it, do they? You don’t like that I don’t acknowledge your right to do as you please with me. That’s why I’m tied up.”

Padmé forced her mind to remain calm, to contemplate whether it was worth debating with her over this or not. Finally she said, “What about the powerful people in your own city? What about the people who *will* become powerful if you get what you want? Do you think they will do right by you?” Her reaction made clear this had been a question Clistara had actively avoided asking herself. She pressed on, “How do you feel about them? Are you maybe afraid of them sometimes? What if one of them wanted you to do something terrible, and you refused? What do you think would happen then?”

“I don’t know,” she growled, “but I do know what the people in authority outside the city think of me.”

“Do you?” asked Padmé. “Have I behaved exactly as you expected? I would think you’d have expected me to have killed you by now.”

“Nice try,” she shrugged. “I know Jedi aren’t that simple. You don’t like to kill weaker people, minions. You like to try to convince them you’re the heroes instead.” She believed what she was saying now, but Padmé could sense enough out of her to know she actually was surprised to still be alive.

But meanwhile, despite his best efforts to keep it steady, Nyder’s breathing had been getting more and more nervous, and had finally increased in volume enough so that even the ordinary ear could hear it. “And who is that with you?” Clistara demanded, turning her head and seeing him there. “Oh, just him,” she commented, almost to herself.

“Can’t we get out of here, Master Jedi?” Nyder asked, pressing himself back into the corner. “I don’t think she’s going to be any help. Are you sure it’s even safe to leave her here?”

“That’s why I don’t want to,” said Padmé. “And I’m still not killing her if I can help it. If you’re not comfortable staying now that she knows you’re here…”

“No, you are not kicking me out to keep her in!” Nyder scrambled to his feet, and she could hear his anger, but he still remained where he was.

“I…” Clistara hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to kill you. Not anymore.” She was only just now admitting this to herself, Padmé could tell, and it shocked her as much as it shocked him.

And it certainly did shock him. His first response was to look at Padmé skeptically. She shook her head. “She genuinely doesn’t. I can sense it.” Thankfully she sensed no doubt from either of them.

Also, she had her angle. “Those you have obeyed would be horrified by that, Clistara. You know that, don’t you? What does that tell you?”

“They’re worried,” she said. “They don’t…”

“They’re all high up and mighty, and they don’t care how any of us feel,” said Nyder, and Padmé knew from her reaction: Nyder could persuade her. Just so long as she didn’t persuade him of anything, but that she’d recently tried to kill him might provide some protection there.

Indeed, she was looking at him as if she never really had before. “Why didn’t you try to do anything about it?” she asked, obviously defensive.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said. “I still don’t. But we shouldn’t exchange one bad group of leaders for another, right?”

“They’re not bad!” Clistara protested.

“Do you believe that?” Padmé asked simply.

“Do you have any sense?” Nyder added.

“No, don’t talk like that,” Padmé said to him; such words never worked. “Just ignore him for a moment, Clistara. Just ignore all our words except this one question you ought to ask yourself anyway.”

She cut off any further words from Nyder with a preemptive glance, and waited. The turbulence she sensed taking Clistara made her long to speak again, but any words now were as likely to harm as to help.

Finally, the girl sagged, and Padmé sensed the fight leaving her completely. “No,” she said, her voice very tiny.

Nyder opened his mouth, but Padmé but up her hand. She had a good idea already of what she’d say next.

Sure enough, Clistara added, “That doesn’t mean I at all feel like helping you.”

She lowered her hand and flicked her head slightly at Nyder. He got the message and started speaking: “So you just want to walk away and let all the leaders in Ruuger’s City get away with everything?”

“You were ready to,” she shot back.

“Only because I didn’t think there was anything I could do about them. Now, look at this: we’ve got a Jedi with us, and she’s willing to work against them. Our choices might be between fleeing our planet all together and being left with no home, no certainty as to whether they'll welcome us at all on Ilborbor, or taking this one opportunity we’re not likely to get again. Now why did you want to follow the people you wanted to follow, Clistara, even though I bet you knew, deep down, what you’ve just admitted from the start? Because you didn’t want to leave the people in charge already be, did you? Do you want to now?”

“I…” she didn’t know. Padmé didn’t even need to be able to sense her uncertainty to be sure of that.

Nyder stood up and came back to the bed, and Padmé moved back. The rest of this was up to him.


	11. Ruuger's City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé's adventures in one place, and her Master's adventures in another.

Clistara had known about a secret tunnel into Ruuger’s City from Alopi, the closest nearby city. It was one she and Padmé both had pre-clearance to enter. Remembering some of the things their traveling companions had said to her and Master Windu about Alopi, Padmé directed Nyder to arrive separately from them, a few hours after they entered. The two of them found a shopping centered at the top of a circular complex and wandered about aimlessly until midday, before settling in the eatery they’d agreed to rendezvous in. It was a place Clistara had eaten in once and had very fond memories of, although she thought the food wasn’t as good this day as it had been that one.

They were just finishing up when Nyder arrived, looking none the worse for wear. All three of them were now dressed in simple, convenient local fashion, and nobody gave him a second glance as he first went up to the counter to place an order and then came over to them. “No trouble,” he said. “So what’s the plan?”

Padmé had spent most of the morning considering this. “I think I should go in first,” she said. “Not for very long or very far, but you say the tunnel comes out near where Tuli Tulson lives.” Tuli Tulson, from what Clistara and Nyder had both observed, seemed to be in Darth Maul’s inner circle in Ruuger’s City. “I put on your robes, Clistara, and avoid coming near anyone using the Force-and I should be able to sense them before they sense me-and I can go completely unnoticed for at least a little while.”

“You want the two of us to wait in the Uproom?” asked Nyder. The Uproom was what they called a room Tulson apparently owned in the building that stood over the Alopi entrance to the secret passage, and Clistara had access.

“If there’s no one else in there. I’ll be able to tell if anyone using the Force has been in there recently as well; in that case you’ll have to wait somewhere else too.”

But when they got to the Uproom, Padmé had the general feeling no one had been there at all for at least a week and probably longer. When she said that, Clistara said, “That’s a little surprising. They always talked as if there was always someone doing secret things in here.”

“These things do tend to get exaggerated,” said Padmé, although privately, she also thought that when that might still be true, she and Master Windu both needed to prepare themselves to deal with it.

Although she didn’t know nearly as much about her Master’s current status as she would’ve liked. She knew nothing grave had happened to him; she would’ve felt it immediately if anything had. He’d even sent her a couple of messages, but they had been short and vague, except for the one after she’d told him the plan, where he’d told her she could do it, but to be very careful.

“Lock yourselves in,” she said to them as she took her leave. “Heed the comm on the wall and watch for my number; I’ll buzz it and then immediately disconnect when I return, so you’ll know to let me in.”

Even clad in Clistara’s normal clothes and robes, pinned in strategic places to deal with their being a little big for her, she managed to slip through the complicated tube entrance to the tunnel without too much trouble. The tunnel itself was broad and well lit; multiple groups could pass through it easily. The floor was a little wet, though, and since it turned out to be a couple of hours walk, by the end of it Padmé’s boots were feeling it. Thankfully at its Ruuger’s City end the tunnel didn’t have any slippery tubing, just a staircase and trapdoor to a basement.

The house the basement belonged to had recently been deserted. Nyder thought the family living there had decided to flee all the way to Chandrila. They could try to find out if they'd been on the _Zarlot 3_ , but they probably wouldn't be able to confirm anything. Another family might eventually move in, but for now Padmé could tell there was no one living there. She looked in each of the rooms upstairs, just in case anything interesting popped up, but there was nothing in them but bare furniture.

The spread of the population throughout the city was uneven; Padmé could sense them clustered heavily in the center, and then smaller groups all crowded together in various other neighborhoods. This was one of the emptier ones. She couldn’t get the kind of reading on the recent local foot traffic Master Windu could have, but she could tell one of the houses, which she was pretty sure was Tulson’s, had seen a lot of people coming and going, and the others very little.

She could sense the Dark Side, too. It was strong enough a presence in what she was certain was his house that the cloud of it gathered all around. She thought she might feel something like it everywhere in the city. Of course, at this point it would’ve been bigger news if that hadn’t been true.

It had been seven years since Padmé had last been in the presence of the Dark Side like this, the last time she and Master Windu had faced Darth Maul, on Cirrios. She’d forgotten how hard it could be to breathe, how there were moments she had to actively think to make herself move. She was grateful now she’d done extensive meditation the previous night, ignoring Nyder and Clistara’s confusion. Now she could grasp onto the center of herself she had developed then, hold on to it, as she left the safety of the deserted house at a time she could tell there’d be no one on the streets she was about to walk on.

At the moment Tulson’s house had one person in it, and Padmé believed that person to be asleep. According to Nyder and Clistara, Tulson had been married once, but his wife had died childless, and since then he had always lived alone. She couldn’t be sure it was him, but it seemed likely enough.

Whoever the person was, he seemed to be borderline Force sensitive. His new Master might have taught him to make use of that, but that he hadn’t woken yet indicated he couldn’t do so in his sleep. Standing on the gravel path that led to his door, Padmé took off her still squishing boots, concealed them as best she could amid a pile of possibly decorative rocks, and started considering the windows. She wanted to break in without using the Force if she could. Even if he hadn’t sensed her being here, she didn’t want to push her luck.

One of the windows in the back was a little loose. Padmé didn’t want to use the Force to actually dislodge it, but she could use it to tell where it was weakest, where pressure would help loosen it further, even what moment her hands had to push and then get under it to keep it from clattering noisily to the floor. There was a moment of terror that it would slip from her grasp, but then it was done, and she was climbing silently inside.

It had taken too much time to do, though, and even her presence didn’t wake probably-Tulson up, he might at any time wake up on his own. Padmé had at least had time to observe where the Dark Side was strongest, and she also knew men like this usually didn’t keep evidence of their secrets on the first floor, where their guests were most likely to stumble on them. The house had no basement, so she headed up to its attic.

She reached the top of the stairs and found herself standing in what she’d always thought the lair of a Sith might look like. There wasn’t much light available through the two tiny windows, but there was enough for her to see weapons, a shelf of holocrons, and mysterious devices that Padmé just knew did horrible things. Everything, including the stone floor and slanted walls, was saturated with the Dark Side. Also, an object covered in cloth.

Taking the cloth off, she found under it what looked like a old communications router, one that despite its age was capable of intercepting transmissions sent from a very great distance, and then sending them on to be received an equally long way away.

It also would contain records of all those transmissions, at least for a hacker of any skill, even Anakin with his limited knowledge. Practically clumsy of he who had stashed it here. Unless he had many of them, and thought this a place the Jedi were least likely to look for one.

It was also on the heavy side, but Padmé had carried heavier. It was at least easy to disconnect, and she had robes to hide it under. There were some boxes in the corner; she took one about the right size and covered it with the cloth. She considered the holocrons, but decided it wasn’t worth it. If she left everything else undisturbed, she might get a little leeway before he bothered to confirm it was still the router under its draping.

Probably-Tulson was just starting to stir as Padmé let herself out, trying to replace the window as best she could without using the Force. She managed to get it into position where it might go unnoticed so long as no one tried to touch it. She didn’t even linger to put her boots on after retrieving them, just headed back for the tunnel as fast as she could. Even so, she knew, there was no way he’d noticed nothing. That didn’t mean he’d been able to quite perceive what the Force would’ve made clear to him had he been more fully awake. It was unfortunate, though, since it made him more likely to check for the router as well as everything else.

Even if he called the Sith, she told herself, it would probably take him a few days to get to the planet. That didn't give them much time, but at least they didn't have to flee Alopi immediately.

Her comm was able to get a signal on the stairs leading into the tunnel. Thankfully when Master Windu answered, he was somewhere he could easily have a conversation, although he didn’t tell her any more than that. When she told him what she’d found, he said only, “We need to get the router secured. I think it better we don’t even tell your two friends about it. Are you able to make yourself not look like an Epostulate while remaining decent?” When Padmé told him she was, he said, “Then so do, and find a storage locker you can rent. Tell the people you’re renting it from that you want to grant access to Obdon Ocalla.”

Of course she agreed, but as Padmé took the long walk back, levitating the router in front of her when her arm really started to ache from carrying it, she felt sorry to be keeping everything from her two allies like this. Nyder especially, even if she could kind of understand it when it came to Clistara.

 

####  **That Night, Colorpa**

 

By the time Mace got the message from Padmé saying she’d gotten the router safely locked up, he didn’t even dare send a text response. He wondered if she’d hoped he was just asleep. It was later in the evening here in Colorpa than it was in Alopi.

Unfortunately, he was instead sharing a locked clothes closet with a man he had known two days and could only trust from situation to situation, with five mercenaries just outside the door, who might or might not have known they were there, but definitely were not going away. Mace was holding out hope that if they didn’t know they might get complacent and all sleep at once, but it was more likely they’d set a watch. If they didn’t just stay up all night. At the moment, they were engaged in what was clearly some sort of gambling game that had gone on energetically for well over an hour, and from what Mace could tell, it was likely to continue for some time yet.

He and his companion couldn’t talk to each other or make any sounds, of course. But already he’d seen how good Xador, as he called himself (he’d given only the one name; Mace wasn’t even sure if it was supposed to be a personal or family name), was at making everyone around him aware of how he felt. Mace couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such a pronounced pout, or such a surly pair of clenched fists.

He’d been sensing deceit from him since the moment he’d picked up him outside a criminal hideout he’d tracked the second assassin sent after him to. But every question he’d asked him, the man had answered readily and truthfully, unless he could cloak his feelings about specific statements better than anyone Mace had met in the past ten years. Well, except possibly some of the Senators.

Though at the moment, Mace was less concerned about whether he was about to betray him than whether he was about to lose his patience and try to burst through the door, which would certainly result in him dead. Very possibly Mace himself too.

Outside, one of the mercenaries exclaimed, “Boffos! You are not bailing on us now like an Eppie!”

“Oh, like those Eppies don’t gamble,” laughed another. “They just all sneak away from their holy city to do it.”

Another third identified himself as possibly Boffos by saying, “You’ve gotten enough money from me, Yaffa. And speaking of Eppies, did you even pay all of Big Hargo’s money to the one you sent on that bald dark-skinned Jedi?” So one of them had been an Epostulate; that was interesting. The second one, probably. “Or have you maybe pocketed a silver or two?”

“You gonna accuse me in front of Big Hargo?” asked the first, obviously Yaffa.

“Oh come on,” laughed a fourth. “None of us are that stupid. Who knows why that crazy wants the Jedi dead in the first place. You kill one, they just get more likely to send another. It’s inviting trouble, and when I don’t think they were even here for us. And the fact that he had an apprentice with him and now no one knows where she scattered off to…”

“Probably just sent her back to Coruscant,” said the second. Mace hoped they would all believe that one.

While the conversation had been going on, Mace had vaguely noticed that Xador was leaning more against the back of the closet, but he hadn’t really been paying attention to that. Until now, when he nudged Mace, and then gestured first to the wall, and then to his lightsaber.

Mace shook his head, and gestured to his ear. The closet door was a thin one; they’d hear the lightsaber hum right through it. Xador glared, but at least that was all he did.

Meanwhile, Yaffa was berating Boffos, but the latter seemed determined to pull out of the game. Finally he sighed, “Be lucky you don’t have to perform a forfeit. This time.”

“Not funny, Yaffa,” said the fifth mercenary.

“Oh maybe we should make you perform the forfeit instead, Rum?” The second one again. From the way he was snickering, Mace hoped the others didn’t agree. He did not particularly care to have to listen through that.

Especially when next to him Xador snickered too. Mace put a finger to him mouth, narrowly refraining from using his entire hand. The mercenaries were loud enough and sounded similar enough it had probably gone unnoticed, but they couldn’t even be sure. Xador pointedly took hold of Mace’s hand and moved it away, but at least he went silent.

Thankfully Boffos just said, “Nah, let’s get on with the game. Dalsi?”

The fourth mercenary, presumably Dalsi, answered, and the game went on. At one point Boffos yelled something very triumphant that sounded like it was in a language other than Basic, though not one Mace recognized. Rum and Dalsi promptly bailed out, and he seemed to now only be playing with the second mercenary, who had now been identified as Fasti. Next to Mace, Xador was now constantly fidgeting, and he thought the other man was nudging his legs on purpose.

“Oh, you ready to flee too, now, Fasti?” Boffos finally laughed. “We go on, I’m going to win that trinket you keep in that vault of yours.”

“Nobody touches that!” Fasti sounded angry. In the closet, Xador urgently tapped Mace’s shoulder until he looked over at him. He made a series of gestures that didn’t entirely make sense, and Mace shook his head impatiently.

“Look,” said Dalsi, “we should be going anyway. You know they’ll be by the river soon.” There weren’t any rivers in Colorpa. Unfortunately, they others all agreed quickly, without saying anything else that might have given some indication of what they meant. There was the sound of shuffling, of scooping various items off the floor, and then they were heading out. A couple of minutes, Mace decided, just in case one of them came back for something, and then they would be getting out of here…

“Finally!” He was too tired; Xador was pushing the door open and hurrying out before Mace realized it. “Really, Master Jedi, if we had to spent another second in there…”

“Not yet!” Mace hissed, grabbing him by the back of his tunic, but the door was flung open. Most of what was visible to Mace was simple bare walls and floors, and this was all unadorned shale, but even so he needed to get the doors closed without hitting Xador with them too hard.

A split second before he would’ve had it done, one of the mercenaries ran back in, eyes on a part of the room not visible to Mace. There was a split second where his focus remained on whatever he'd come back for, nodding as if he’d expected to find it still there.

Then he noticed the closet was open, and turned to see both of them, and yelled, “Everyone come back here!”

At least now Mace could make that hole in the wall Xador had suggested earlier, though he had to use a quick flick of the Force to knock the man out with his own drawn weapon, and he was only starting with it when the other four can back in. By then, Xador had grabbed two of the four shoes on the floor, and he threw them, but one went sailing into the wall, and while the other hit someone, it wasn’t a very heavy shoe, and they only stumbled back. Mace had to stop cutting so he could get in front of Xador and deflect their blaster bolts.

“Xador!” exclaimed one of the mercenaries, whose voice identified him as Rum. “What are you doing with a Jedi?”

“I was going to turn him in for a ransom!” sighed Xador. “After I used him to get to this chick.”

The first statement was a lie. The second was not. Mace didn’t think Xador realized he could tell that, although he was obviously hoping he wouldn’t actually believe the first at the very least.

He decided against enlightening him for the moment. Since the exchange hadn’t really disrupted the ongoing firefight, he simply said to him, “Well, my magnificent captor, if you want to turn me in to anyone, we need to both get out of here alive.” Since Xador didn’t actually have anyone to turn him in to, he was hoping he didn’t think of trying to say they’d take him dead or alive. “So if you could take this,” and he summoned the weapon of the downed man, “and cover for me?”

Thankfully the guy knew how to fire the blaster, and he even hit one of the men before Mace had finished carving the hole out. On the other side was another room, but Mace could spot a window that opened into the night. “Come on!” he yelled. When Xador, looking way too excited, just kept returning fire, at least until a bolt hit him in the leg, Mace hurled him through using the Force, ignoring both his wails and his protests. He dove through himself, propelling himself across the adjoining room until he was by Xador. “We can do this with my throwing you again,” he informed him, “Or you can grab onto me.” He hoisted him to his feet and said, “Choice is yours.” Xador glared, but he grabbed onto him. Thankfully he didn’t have to break through the window; it opened on command. Also there was no one on the street below. Which meant not only could they come down without worrying about anyone gaping, or much worse, but once they were on the ground, Mace was free to shove Xador up against the wall and demand, “Who were you using me to get to?”

“Hey,” Xador squeaked, “those guys’ll be out of the building and over here any minute, you idiot, and I don't know if I can walk!”

Mace did a quick scan through the Force, then said, “We have a few minutes. And I’m not taking you anywhere until I know what you’re up to. Tell me, or I'll leave you here for them to find.”

“Look, Bastard Jedi, it’s someone who wants to cause you trouble anyway, and we don’t have to go anywhere; sooner or later this chick’s going to come to you. I figured I could get out of the way, because you’d’ve told me to anyway, then catch her by surprise.”

How Xador had expected to get Mace to let him just walk off with such a valuable prisoner was a question of some concern, but he might have just genuinely not thought that far. Meanwhile, he was unfortunately right that they couldn’t stay where they currently were. “You should have told me earlier,” he hissed as he pulled back. “But now at least we can be more ready for her.”

Xador grinned, “You’re going to help me get her?”

“I make no promises of anything,” Mace growled back. “But our interests currently coincide, and when I’m done with him, *maybe* I’ll let you have her.” It was very unlikely he would, but it was possible, if all the circumstances ended up going very certain ways.

He wasn’t sure how far Xador trusted his words, but he got up a cocky grin anyway, and said, “All right, then. Can you do anything for my leg? You'll have to use that cloak of yours to bandage it, won't you?" He laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the universe.

Mace wasn't the best at Force healing, but at least he was able to get the guy walking normally. And yes, bandaged with part of his cloak, though his amusement went on far longer than was called for.

He took the lead at first, trying to put as much distance between them and their would-be pursuers as possible. But they gave up fairly easily, perhaps taking Dalsi’s opinion that he was too dangerous to be worth it. And when they were far away enough that it wasn’t quite as easy to track them through the Force anymore, when Xador started looking around, Mace asked him, “Anywhere in particular you were planning to go?”

“Need to figure out where we are first. Why don’t they they have street signs in this city anyway, not everyone in it has a hand-tracker…I don’t suppose your magic Jedi powers lets you know whether or not we’re anywhere near the transit tower…”

Most of the bigger cities on Avvarbor Prime had at least one of what were called transit towers, which were the main conductors and regulators of practically all the planet’s signal traffic. If Mace could get the data out of Colorpa’s, he thought, and combine with the information in Padmé’s router, they could probably map out most of the Sith’s communications network on the planet, maybe even within the solar system. If he could also even partially erase the records there of his and Padmé’s communications with each other, so much the better.

Still, “That seems an odd place for our quarry to be.”

“She works there, and at odd hours. Likes to be on shift at night. I haven’t actually heard about her doing anything outside her job description up there, but I’d be shocked to hear that she isn’t. Tonight, from what I hear, her shift ends in about an hour, so we want to get there before then?”

He was telling the entire truth there. “If it’s in this quarter of the city, which I’m fairly confident it is, I should be able to get us there within that time frame. Just give me a moment to do something else.” Mace stepped a little bit away from Xador as he took out his comm device.

He would’ve liked to have sent a voice message to Padmé, but he wasn’t having Xador know what he said to his Padawan. Writing one on the device with its tiny letterspread was a pain, and he had to keep it short if he didn’t want Xador getting impatient and trying to look. But he managed to type out, _Noted. Hope to have more info very soon. Force be with you Padme._ One thing she’d taught him was the value of this kind of message, the peace of mind it brought to both sender and receiver.

 

#### Alopi

 

Padmé got the brief text response from her Master as midnight approached. By then, she, Nyder, and Clistara had taken a room in an inn near the Uproom, since they’d all three of them started to worry how much longer it would be before someone decided to use it. Her two companions had both long since fallen asleep, and she herself had tried to do the same. But while she had avoided fretting too much about what Master Windu had been doing back in Colorpa, keeping her focus on her own part in the mission and what she could control, the anticipation of a response from him kept her awake.

But then at last she read through it, and it was a promising message, all together. She took a minute to focus on the facts, and the next action for her, the here and now. She would try to gauge the following day whether it would be worth the risk to try to go into Ruuger’s City again, though she didnt't dare go near Tulson's house again. Hopefully “very soon” would mean by the end of that day; with Master Windu, it usually did. Her job might now end up being mostly making sure neither of the two people with her did anything stupid.

These two people were her mission, until further notice. That was the way it made Padmé happiest to think about it. They had booked a room with two beds, since the two of them had made clear their unwillingness to share one, and it hadn’t cost too much more. Padmé considered her options, then decided Clistara was unlikely to either be offended or read it wrong if the Padawan slept in hers with her.

Though while the bed was built for two, it did leave them lying pretty close together. Padmé found herself taking her first thorough look at the girl since she’d interrogated her back in Myzine. With her blonde curls tumbled every which way, she looked even younger than she had then. She might have even been younger than Padmé herself, though she wasn’t sure. Eposulates didn't see childhood as lasting very long, from what she'd heard. There was darkness still about her, but she didn’t look at all menacing. More tired, and oddly lost. Looking at her, there was a weird buzz at the back of Padmé’s mind, but she had no idea why.

It would be fine, she told herself. She’d know if Clistara was trying to deceive her. It was probably just anxiety, with the stakes so high and being separated from her Master, and still knowing too little about just what he was up to. And if it wasn’t, she could probably deal with it better after getting some sleep.

Oddly, after she closed her eyes, the last thing Padmé remembered thinking about before she dropped off was Anakin’s face.


	12. Answers Before Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the Temple.

Master Jinn advised Anakin he wished for them to dine together in their quarters a couple of weeks after Padmé and Master Windu’s departure. Initially Anakin didn’t think anything of that. Master Jinn might have all sorts of things he wanted to tell him. Or he might have just wanted to two of them to have that time to talk one on one without worrying about who else might hear.

He started to think things might be otherwise as they sat down. Master Jinn, though his voice was always kind, and he was even smiling for the most part, was clearly in a very serious mood as he asked Anakin about his day and placed their meal on the table. That was another thing; usually Anakin took care of getting the dishes both on and off the table when they ate in their quarters.

They ate in silence for the first few minutes, which was also typical. Master Jinn had spoken of not wanting Anakin distracted by his hunger. Which was nice most of the time, but now gave Anakin the chance to get nervous, thinking of what this might be about. Since Padmé and her Master had headed out, no one had told Anakin anything about how the mission was going, not even where they were, exactly. He didn’t think Padmé was dead, because he’d pretty sure he’d have felt it if she’d died. But that didn’t mean any number of things couldn’t have gone wrong and Master Jinn wasn’t about to break the news to him.

But instead, he said to him, “Anakin, I want to discuss hacking with you.”

All of Anakin’s feelings were ones Master Jinn expected him to have, at least. A little gladness, of course. A little relief, too; at last they were talking about it. But a good deal of unease. Master Jinn would be pleased about that, because he didn’t know _why_ Anakin felt it.

Out loud, he just said, “Am I going to learn it properly, now?”

“Yes,” he said. “And no. Not tomorrow, or next week, anyway. But I suspect, though I do not promise this, that you will be working to seriously improve your skills by the time the year is out, likely sooner. I think you must have some idea of this already, but your friend Padmé, before she left on her current mission, talked to me about it. I have given the matter very great thought since. One of the five us does have to become a master at it, the way none of us currently are, and you are the one who would do so fastest.”

“But you’re worried about what learning more will do to me,” said Anakin, because that was obvious.

“I am,” said Master Jinn. “Anakin, do you remember, a couple of years back, when we talked about the friend you made on Corellia?”

“Uggoti, yes, I remember.” Uggoti had been a couple of years older than Anakin, and had been known for serious troublemaking. “You said it was all right to be friends with him, even though he did a lot of things that he shouldn’t do, but that I had to be careful. You said I had to watch who and what I was letting influence my thoughts. You said I could even learn useful things from him, like how to sneak around, but then I had to be especially careful, that I didn’t do those things in the same way he did, or at least not for the same purposes.”

“Exactly,” said Master Jinn, sounding very pleased. “I suppose you might think, right now, that you wouldn’t feel the temptation. I think you thought that way back then. And perhaps, at the time, you genuinely didn’t feel any temptation to sneak around for anything but the right reasons.”

“That’s…” Better to admit it, for more than one reason. “…not entirely true. I, uh…” Did he have to give the details?

“Did want to do something that I assume you ultimately did not do?”

“Yes,” said Anakin, very grateful. “It’s okay, I know not to do everything I’m tempted to do.” And it wasn’t as if he was going to do anything bad out of this, or at least, he didn’t plan to right now. Yes, he might do some things without his Master knowing about them, all reasons for everything aside.

“I am glad to know you are already on your guard. Nonetheless, I must still emphasize to you: be even more so. If you think about it, being able to break security systems and retrieve protected information from databanks can give you far more power than a blaster or a lightsaber. You know already, of course, that the greatest weapon is knowledge. And the kind of knowledge you can get from hacking includes secrets of all kinds, secrets that can determine the outcome of battles, secrets that can topple leaders, secrets that people are so desperate to keep, they’ll do anything to win your silence once you know them.”

“Like the kind of knowledge that got Tru killed.” He had to say it. “Yes, I know that very well.”

“Exactly,” Master Jinn might have been planning on that. “So once you do this, you will be in a position to make more Tru Velds.”

“I would never!” Anakin protested, shocked. “Master, why would you ever believe I would even be tempted…”

“Obviously you would never deliberately do anything that would get any of your fellow Padawans killed.” Master Jinn was as calm as ever. “But the Jedi are not the only people who can get hurt or killed if the wrong person finds out where they are going to go and what they are planning to do. Indeed, that information you do find may lead to the death of Darth Maul, and that, of course, is something that must be done. But he is very far from the only person you will be able to target, and there will be others vulnerable to you, or whom you impart your information to. Some of them will not be good people.”

“I know not all bad people deserve to die,” said Anakin. He’d known that perfectly well even before Master Jinn had hammered it into him during their first years together. Really, why was he sensing genuine anxiety from his Master about this? “I promise you, Master, I’m not going to go crazy.”

It was a good thing he was genuinely feeling dismay his Master would even think that. It kept him from feeling anything about going after Master Dooku, all reasons for everything aside.

It seemed to give Master Jinn pause, too, sensing that. For a few moments he just sat there, looking down at his plate, lost in thought. Anakin ate in silence, trying to enjoy the brief respite.

Finally, he said, “I want you to promise more than that, Anakin. I want you to promise me that you’ll remember it is not your place-or anyone’s, I should clarify, to decide the fate of all the people you will have power over. I’m not even just talking about the hacking there, either. This is something I would hope you would have come to know instinctively within a few years, when most Padawans would. But now you have to get it through your head a little earlier than usual. When the time comes that you hold your lightsaber at the defeated foe you do not have to kill, you must be able to know you do not have to kill him, and you certainly must not kill when you know you don’t have to. Promise me you will do all of this, Anakin.”

“Of course I will, I promise.” Anakin maybe kind of understood what Master Jinn was afraid of there. Except he still didn’t quite understand why his further developing his hacking skills should be the conversation to lead to such a general fear probably all Masters had about their Padawans.

He thought Master Jinn could tell that he really did mean it, though. He could sense his relief there, and his voice was much warmer, “Very well, then, Ani. We will discuss this again when it is time to. For now, I have some thoughts on your schedule for today. I would like you to work with Obi-Wan…”

 

####  **Shortly After**

 

Anakin had very happily agreed to work with Obi-Wan, once he’d heard they’d be working on repairing some of the Temple’s old ships. That was something Qui-Gon himself would certainly have rather been doing with his day. Especially when he was having trouble avoiding fear-or, in fact, dread-when it came to what he might find during his meditation later that morning. To some extent, Anakin’s sincerity when he’d made his final promise to his Master over breakfast had alleviated his anxiety over what he had sense during the previous night’s, but the worry remained.

First, however, was a task he hadn’t been able to attend to as much as he would’ve liked. Neither their Padawans, nor Obi-Wan, nor the Council knew that he and Mace were secretly still in communication. Shortly before he and Padmé had left for Avvarbor, they’d been able to persuade Master Dooku to show them how he’d been in sporadic communication with his failed Padawan since the first Sith attack, which had been his reason for being in the communications room. “She would fall victim to the Sith for certain if I did not do it,” he had said to them. “I never approved of how the Council wanted none of us to have anything to do with her. It was the height of irresponsibility on their part.”

That he was in contact with her was beyond doubt, though Qui-Gon knew Mace feared his motivations were not what he claimed. While he would admit even he could not always tell when his old Master was deceiving him, he knew the man. He couldn’t believe he would betray the Jedi Order.

Besides, the methods of escaping detection he had shown Qui-Gon and Mace seemed to be working so far. Except that the previous day he’d heard a remark from Master Yoda that left him wondering if he’d someone mystically known anyway, but he supposed such a thing couldn’t be helped, if so. Perhaps he still wouldn’t tell anybody.

One of things Master Dooku had advised was that they not spread the data from its initial location in the bank, not even to download it to any viewing devices. Qui-Gon knelt over the console by his bed, despite the awkwardness with his height, to read Mace’s updates.

Most of them were about Padmé, who seemed to be getting more done at the moment. But in their meditations, both Masters had sensed far less danger in her path than Mace’s, though neither could tell how or where. It might be why he was reporting more about his current companion than he’d normal bother to tell about such a man.

In the brief messages he’d hammered out to Qui-Gon when he hadn’t been corresponding with his Padawan, he’d noted that his companion claimed to have lived in Colorpa for twelve years local, that the cold seemed to irritate him more than usual, and of course all the details about the woman in the transit tower he’d told him, which weren’t many. Unfortunately Mace’s last message had been from before they’d gotten to her.

He read it all; he received no true illumination from it, besides that the news related to Padmé was hopeful. Reluctantly he turned the console off, deleted the message and deep-purged the short-term memory the way Master Dooku had instructed, and slid down to his knees, straight into his meditation position. He kept the words he had just read in his head, making sure they would stay in his memory for as long as this mission went on. Then he put them away, and moved on to he responsible for them.

He sometimes thought they ought to pull Anakin into this exercise. Qui-Gon had no doubt he would master it when Padmé was the subject, and through his connection to her, he would get longer and more detailed experiences of what she had known. Although he also believed he himself would’ve done the same, had his subject been Obi-Wan. But he was safe here in the Temple, and his friendship of Mace was enough, when he reached out, and the other man, even from all the light-years away, felt him, and guided him to the right memory.

Qui-Gon was there, now, Mace’s hood over his head as he entered the room and saw the woman sitting at her console, her head occasionally jerking and sending her stiff ponytail bouncing.

Xador was below; Mace had managed to persuade him to stay there. The memories of how irritating and reckless Xador was threatened, but no, Qui-Gon kept that at bay, allowing himself moments to consider only his greed and his foolishness. He had not even known, and still did not, what the woman he was after was doing in the transit tower at night. So far it had not turned out to matter, and Mace, with his ability to see these things, was convinced it would not.

She was definitely Force sensitive. Mace had already sensed this, but when immersed in the memory, Qui-Gon could detect still more, how pumped she was with the Living Force, to the point of danger when she was completely untrained, and while she was not as strong with the Dark Side as they first feared, she certainly tapped into it when the wrong feelings took her.

They were lucky, Qui-Gon found himself thinking, that she actually did not get angry when she realized he was there. Her scornful laughter neither of them minded. “Master Jedi,” she sneered. “I did not even have to look for you.”

“So you did want me,” Mace said. “I’m curious what for.” He could’ve made that more convincing; Qui-Gon told him so.

“Oh,” she shrugged, “I want you to take out Big Hargo for me. You ought to, because if you didn’t know it already, he is someone who has sworn to kill any Jedi who lands on our planet. Noone is even sure why; there are stories he’s possibly gone mad, or some strange wizard visited him and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.” The second one was looking much more likely from their vantage point, of course. “And, of course, he wants to kill me. I suppose you want to know why.”

Qui-Gon actually did, even though he could see through Mace’s ability to that this actually wasn’t important. Nor did his friend care. He simply said, “You’re afraid of him.”

“I can’t do anything to him. You can. From all accounts of how he’s talking, he’s an ignorant fool, thinking if the Jedi are just dragged to him, maybe a little beaten up already, he can be a match for them. He’s a brutal fighter, with a history of brawls for money in the seedier parts of both here and Astromi. If I was brought before him alone…” The slightest of shudders, and Qui-Gon could not help the deep compassion and dismay. “I would be lucky if killing me was all he did.”

Qui-Gon would have agreed to go with her on the spot. Mace…hadn’t decided yet. He would take Qui-Gon’s opinion after they had relived the entire memory together. He saw no shatterpoint here; it was not absolutely vital to the mission he either go or not go. This did not mean there wouldn’t be serious consequences either way, though. Mace was especially worried about what might happen to Padmé if he extended his time away from her, because he had the feeling this would take longer than one might have thought.

He had decided to tell her he was currently fallen in with a man who was after her. “That’s unfortunate, since he needs Big Hargo to be able to give him the money.”

“He’s a simple-minded man in some ways,” Mace said to her. “It probably would not be difficult to persuade him that it would still be in his advantage to help us take him down. Do you know if Big Hargo has anything he could loot? I would even be willing to let him actually have it.”

“Don’t know specifics, but I’d be amazed if he didn’t.” Qui-Gon agreed with Mace’s assessment that she’d want that for herself, even though at this moment she didn’t believe she would. He himself would’ve been concerned about that, but Mace was not.

“I must consult with him, however, and I fear he may not be willing to decide immediately.” That was true, though it was not the whole truth. You will be back here?”

“Tomorrow night, same times.”

The memory ended there. The two of them remain in each other’s minds. Mace wanted to know if Qui-Gon could truly look at the situation.

Qui-Gon forced himself to view it without emotion, though he could not do so as Mace could. Big Hargo was worth investigating in any case, though it might even be wiser to do so with Padmé, him being a man with some power within Colorpa. Bringing him down would be something Mace would not mind doing, though he feared the consequences for the city or even more would be further-reaching than even he could foresee. He was also concerned about what Xador might try to do if he refused to go along with his plan. He whispered what he knew to the wrong person, whom he might find even if Mace tried to get him arrested, and everything could end in disaster.

 _Do not alienate anyone without need, my friend,_ Qui-Gon thought. _Your Padawan would tell you that, were she with you, and she would be right. And you need not have your confrontation with Big Hargo right away. All three of you will have more chance of getting what you want if you take a little time to plan. We can form plans of our own, of course. You might even send more instructions to Padmé. Even if she can’t join you in time, there are still things she can do._

 _Thank you, my friend,_ was Mace’s response, and the connection started to dissolve; it had taken a great effort on Mace’s part to hold it for as long as he had.

Mace’s decision still was not made, of course. He didn’t have much more time, but what time he did have he would take; Qui-Gon had sensed that. It was a strange weakness of his friend’s, to sometimes linger too long over decisions when he couldn’t see any shatterpoints, or anything else from the Force, to give him extra guidance.

But he had the feeling Mace would ultimately take his two new acquaintances to Big Hargo. Hopefully good rather than ill would come of that.

Right now, it was not that he could concentrate on; it had to be entirely left to his friend now. Instead, Qui-Gon turned to the final task of his morning meditations, the one he most did not want to do, but the one that might be the most important one of all, for it involved the possible child of prophecy, and at any rate the boy under his care and teaching.

He had never been able to see much into Anakin’s future. He’d never had as many visions through the Force as most anyway, which he had long accepted as the result of being stronger in the Living than the Unifying Force, but it was troubling to him that he never had more than feelings, the vaguest ideas of what might come to him. The most concrete thing he could sense was Padmé would play a vital part in his life, and that was hardly something he’d needed the Force to tell him.

But now, as he fell into meditation, the terrible feeling he’d had in his meditations last night came to him again, the darkness that lay in the future. Not even from Darth Maul, not truly, that he had known already. And not, he now also sensed, in the immediate future at all, but instead in the immediate future were its origins, but he could sense nothing as to where or why or how, no hints as to how he could possibly avert it. Qui-Gon Jinn searched and searched and searched, dwelling on all the faults he knew well his Padawan possessed, his temper, his impatience, his occasional arrogance.

They were mixed up in it, he could now see. But that was all.

The pain that brought, the dead certainty that potential disaster lay in young Anakin’s future and he might not be able to stop it, broke Qui-Gon, sent him out of his meditation and he fell forward onto the floor, bracing himself on his hands and knees as he struggled to breathe. Not since he had faced his own temptation from the Dark Side and nearly succumbed had Qui-Gon felt so close to losing control of himself, his feelings, his fears.

In other room, Anakin had been left to wait for Obi-Wan, and was using the time to read something, probably some article about robotics; he read all the ones he had time for. His mood was cheerful, the conversation he’d just had with his Master apparently not taking up too many of his thoughts just after it. Qui-Gon kept his shields up just enough to keep his distress from his Padawan, but allowed himself to breathe in that momentary contentment, a reminder that for now, at least, Anakin was still all right.

But he wasn’t able to conceal it to Obi-Wan. He had been far too close to their quarters for that, and indeed, with the amount of distress he was in it was possible he might have felt it had he been halfway across the Temple. Qui-Gon could sense his approach speed up, him picking up his pace, his alarm at sensing his former Master in such a state.

He pulled himself up into a kneeling position when he realized Obi-Wan was going to come straight for him. It would not do for Anakin to see him otherwise.

Thankfully his former Padawan also realized the need to keep his feelings concealed around his current one. Qui-Gon heard him talk to Anakin, sounding perfectly serene as he told him they would be going within a few minutes, but there was just a brief matter he needed to discuss with Master Jinn first. Anakin sounded a little intrigued, maybe wondering if it was related to the Sith, or directly to Mace and his Padawan, but he definitely was not upset.

When the door opened, Qui-Gon concentrated on holding his position, and Obi-Wan calmly stopped in front of him and stood there until the door was safely closed behind him. Then Qui-Gon let himself sag again, and Obi-Wan was even faster, catching him as he fell, and giving him support to lean into. He spoke no words, asked no questions yet, and Qui-Gon was not yet up to giving answers either.

Instead he made no resistance as Obi-Wan looked into his mind, reading everything with no effort at all, including all of Mace’s memories that he own mind had retained, and the rest of it too. He reacted to it only with his breathing, a change in sharpness and speed that felt to Qui-Gon like great oceans heaving all of their great waters onto the shores, strong enough to knock whole cities down.

It took Qui-Gon a couple of minutes to take what Obi-Wan was offering him. It wasn’t what he wanted to demand from him; it wasn’t not any further knowledge of what awaited; he couldn’t even tell if he had it or not. Instead, it was just comfort, and strength, and love, and support, and all the things Qui-Gon knew were supposed to make him able to face and cope with what was coming. Things Obi-Wan was giving freely beyond what he was supposed to, and Qui-Gon also recognized and was more grateful for that than he could say.

More than anything, he wanted to believe it would be enough, and to have Obi-Wan know that too.

When that belief did not form, and Obi-Wan too knew it wouldn’t, his former Padawan took hold of him, firm hands on his shoulders, and shifting him around to face him, managing without breaking most of the physical contact between them. Since the whole thing had begun, and Obi-Wan had lost his own Padawan learner, it seemed every time Qui-Gon looked him in the face close up like this, he seemed to have aged fathoms since the last time.

“We must…” Obi-Wan started, then gave up, and just pressed his forehead to that of his former Master. “Oh, Master, are we both to suffer in this way?”

“There is much that I have suffered already that you may yet escape,” whispered Qui-Gon, for he had lost a Padawan to far worse than death. “Remember Tru is still with you in the Force. Just like you will be with me in the Force, or I with you, if…”

“That I will be,” Obi-Wan agreed fervently. Neither of them would ever speak it, the knowledge that if Obi-Wan alive wouldn’t be enough, nothing would be, but when it was very possible even death wouldn’t stop him from doing everything he could for Qui-Gon, that certainly wouldn’t.

For a minute or so, Qui-Gon though that would be all there was to say that morning, even they pressed themselves more deeply into each other’s embrace. They weren’t even trying to actively communicate between their minds, if only because there was only so much of that Qui-Gon could do within one hour. They didn’t need to; even those feelings they could passively sense within each other sufficed for this moment.

Then Obi-Wan said, “I spoke with Master Yoda. He has spoken about my possibly going out, especially since, remember, I now risk only myself.” He paused to feel the grief, perhaps because Qui-Gon was a rare companion who would let him without impatience. “Not to the Avvarbor System itself, but somewhere close, from which I could get to Avvarbor Prime within an hour, although if we landed one of our pilot crafts on the planet without any authorizations…well, it might still be worth it, but the repercussions would still be terrible.”

Another thing to worry about, and yet Qui-Gon felt more gladness than anything else to hear it. “Don’t tell Anakin that, yet,” he whispered back. “He’ll look at the two of still staying here, and feel either angry, guilty, or both.”

At the reminder of Anakin, Obi-Wan pulled back slightly, but didn’t let go, not yet. “I won’t go for at least a week,” he said. “Probably more. Unless something crazy happens with Master Windu and Padawan Naberrie.”

Qui-Gon had already assumed as much, but even so, on hearing it, he found himself saying, “In that case, before you go…will you come spend a couple of evenings here? I don’t know if we’d have Anakin with us or not for them…”

“Either way will make me glad,” Obi-Wan murmured. He clasped Qui-Gon’s hand and pressed their cheeks together, warm skin to warm skin, his breath blown across his ear. He would do no further than that this morning. More days than not, the two of them did only as much as would satisfy their emotional hungers, although those were sometimes far greater than they were that morning. It would not do to get caught up in what was between them, what they quietly allowed themselves when they could, what Qui-Gon took, refusing to consider whether it was breaking the rules or not.

The truth was, they both needed it, if only because of the circumstances under which the five of them lived. Qui-Gon was fairly certain Obi-Wan had stopped questioning it after he’d lost Tru. That was all there was to that.


	13. Run From To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One good deed of Padmé's may not go unpunished, while Mace prepares to do another one.

Padmé woke to the sound of Clistara stirring, moaning slightly; she was pretty sure her dreams had been bad. First thing was to check her comm, where she found a message from Master Windu:  _Try to keep yourself at least partly on standby. You don’t need to do nothing at all, but don’t start anything that will take you more than a few hours._

That ruled out most of the things Padmé had thought of doing that day, and she didn’t want to try to go back into Ruuger’s City too soon. And when she pulled herself up, and saw Nyder still in bed, but wide awake, and looking like he’d been that way for a while, though she knew he’d been asleep when she’d turned in, she had the feeling he’d be trouble if she didn’t give him something to do today.

So she gave Clistara a little bit of time to properly wake up and go in and out of the fresher, and then she asked, “Clistara, exactly how much do you know about Epostulate activity here in Alopi?”

She shrugged. “I’ve shown you the only location I know about for sure. I suppose there must be others somewhere in the city, some only a few people know about. I don’t think they can be anywhere near this place, though, if they don’t want everyone finding them. Everyone who comes to the Uproom has looked around. For many of us, it was the first place we came outside Ruuger’s City, so of course most were going to a little, even if we had to do it on the sly. I did, and never found anything.”

That all made sense, so Padmé continued, “How much of the city have you been in? You seem to have known your way around the east side of it…”

“Between here and the gate we’ve come through I know pretty well, and I’m not the only one. But I don’t think very many of us have been very far west or north of the Uproom. North isn’t a nice part of town, at least from what I’ve been told. Everyone poor and lots of crimes.”

“What about abandoned buildings?” Nyder asked; he was obviously thinking the same thing as Padmé.

Clistara understood fast herself. “They didn’t say anything specific about them being there. Maybe they are there, I don’t know. Anywhere we can find out, or do we have to go there and look?”

The three of them doing that was a bad idea, of course. But Padmé had from her readings about Alopi learned the answer to Clistara’s question: “Yes, but network access is very tightly controlled here. In order to do it without anyone finding out we’re here, we’re probably going to have to pay for it.” She thought briefly about learning how to hack, and how to break into Alopi’s network on their own, but the simple fact was that they didn’t have the knowledge. “Considering we have to keep enough money to stay here and eat for at least a few more days, I probably don’t have enough for more than an hour at most.”

“Networks…” Nyder sighed. “I don’t think either of us have ever even been on those. I mean, I think I maybe know how it works, but…”

“Then you’re going to be on one today,” Padmé decided, because that was a skill they did need to learn, or they were pretty much trapped in the world of the Epostulates, which she would have found wrong even if they hadn’t been under the power of the Sith. But they still had to be clever when they only had an hour of use, and anyway, these two could still do with something to do for the rest of the day. “I do have some information on me about exactly how they work in this city. So I suggest that after we have some breakfast, you two come back up here and start reading, while I go looking at the rest of the town and see if I can find anything.”

She ended up staying with them for about an hour after breakfast, just making sure that they understood what they were reading. But eventually she left them both scrolling their way through her data pad. After a bit of consideration, she redonned her normal tunics and cloak. In general the citizens of Alopi were pretty much indifferent to Jedi, and when there likely only a few minions of the Sith in the city, if indeed there were any at all, she could elude those in any outfit.

For most of the rest of the morning, as she walked in the bad section of town, Padmé sensed nothing. Well, nothing besides the usual misery and desperation this kind of place didn’t need a Sith or his minions around to be saturated with. She knew she had to stay focused on the mission and attract as little attention to herself as possible. But it was impossible for her to just walk past every house emitting distress. Most of them were situations where she couldn’t help much anyway, but three times she broke and intervened.

The first two times were helping to heal sick children, and didn’t even take her too much time, or too much out of her. As she left the second hovel, she found herself wondering if, should she survive to her knighting, she might look into becoming a Healer full time; she knew she was unusually good at it.

But the third was when she heard violence going on, a woman screaming at a man to please stop, and Padmé, having forced herself already to walk past a mugging and a case of a man verbally berating his entire family, had her lightsaber out and was running inside before she could stop herself. She cracked an already damaged door straight in half and making an enough of a commotion that by the time she found the two of them the man actually had stopped, pulled his underwear back up, and turned to face her, while the woman had pulled all her clothes back on, gotten up and shrunk back against the wall. She was probably scared of her rescuer too, poor thing.

“Did you just break my door?” The man demanded, possibly angrier at that than anything else; Padmé supposed he probably didn’t have the money for a replacement.

“You are lucky,” she growled in response, “if I don’t break anything else of yours.” The most practical thing, she knew, would be to get the woman out of the place and then retreat herself. Her hood was still up, and keeping her face unseen might save the mission and everything that was at stake on it. Besides, it was unquestionably wrong for her to seek justice herself, and if she turned him over to the authorities, Padmé knew the chances of him getting it weren’t too high.

So she deactivated the lightsaber and put it back on her belt, turned to the woman, and held her hand out. “Come with me. Come away from here.”

For a long moment, she thought she might be too scared. But then she stumbled forward. Padmé moved forward extended her arm, still keeping her distance; she wasn’t going to be the one to make physical contact right now.

But instead it was her attacker who lurched over to her with a, “No, you are going to listen when I tell you-” That was as far as he got before Padmé had reacted, and a slight use of the Force sent him tumbling back. But she turned her head, just to make sure she didn’t knock him into anything damaging, and turned it too quickly, and her hood slipped.

It wasn’t entirely a turn for the worse, because when the woman saw her face, she immediately grabbed her hand. The man didn’t seem to react to it anyway; he just lunged at her, retreating only when Padmé drew her lightsaber again. The two of them walked quickly away from him, and didn’t stop until they were safely back out on the street.

“Are you all right?” Padmé asked her, glancing around and seeing the street was empty; she could leave her hood down a minute or so more at minimal risk.

“I’m not hurt,” said the woman, glancing around with her. “You’d better be careful though, Master Jedi. There are people in this city on the hunt for you, or at least for some Jedi. The story was that he was an older, dark skinned man without any hair, though.”

“Who’s saying that?” Padmé concentrated on keeping her voice soft; she could not keep the anxiety out of it.

She shrugged. “Everyone, I don’t know. I won’t tell anyone about you if you want, but that man might comm someone.”

“Thank you for telling me that. Is there anything more I can do for you?”

The woman considered it for a moment, then said, “Keep yourself safe.”

Padmé spent the rest of her time there too much on edge, not quiet able to release her anxiety into the Force without sacrificing more concentration than she could afford right now. But she had already surveyed most of the area, and there was nothing else to tip her off.

On her way back to the inn, she managed to establish contact with her Master, with him able to get himself alone to talk to her. When she told him what had happened, she was secretly glad he wasn’t there to show his trepidation about her interference, and had reached the point where he usually didn’t try to scold her over a comm. “Try to stay in the more prosperous parts of the city for now,” he told her instead. “I think had there been anything vital for you to find in the poorer neighborhoods, one of us would have sensed that by now. But also make sure you can shepherd your two companions as well as yourself out of Alopi quick if you have to.”

That was probably going to leave them on standby completely, Padmé thought, at least after they’d used up their network time.

 

####  **Colorpa, That Afternoon**

 

Mace had briefly considered putting off his decision about Big Hargo until he could get his Padawan and her two companions to do a little research, but when he considered the network fees in Alopi and the amount of credits they had on them, he decided they couldn’t help him much anyway. Besides, by the time he, Xador, and Edny, as the woman’s name was, finally sat down with him in the corner of a public electronics library, with everyone reasonably confident the two of them wouldn’t try to attack each other, he was fairly sure he was going to take them to him. He’d heard enough that he wouldn’t at all mind taking the guy down, though he couldn’t make that his priority.

“So let me get this straight,” Xador started with. “You want me to give up a certain and huge reward for a much less certain one I know you, Master Jedi, might not even let me keep, just because you think going after Big Hargo’s the right thing to do?”

“You knew perfectly well,” Mace replied to him, “that I would always potentially keep you from keeping Big Hargo’s reward.”

“And how much do you really want to have an association with Big Hargo?” Edny argued. “He might let you take the reward and walk away, but it’s more likely he’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse, and you’ll spend the rest of your life doing things for him, clutching whatever he’s willing to give you in return, and living in fear of the day you do something and he decides he doesn’t like you anymore. Sure, you’ll make lots of money, but would it be worth that?”

“That is something I’d prefer to avoid,” Xador conceded, but he still sounded reluctant.

Mace stretched his mind out slightly, but no, he remained as immune to Force persuasion as he’d been this entire time. He really was stronger-minded than most would give him credit for.

“Besides,” he added, “being associated with the Jedi carries its own risks.”

“Nobody will know you were if I can help it,” said Mace. “Not even for your own sake; this is that kind of mission. There may be rumors, of course, but deny everything long enough, and more people than not will eventually believe you.”

Xador was looking at him now with a little bit of curiosity mixed with more amusement. “You’re really not what I always figured the Jedi were.”

“I admit not all of them approve of me.”

“No, they wouldn’t would they? But you know what the crazy thing is? I like you. I really do. I know,” he held a hand up, an odd contrast to his smirk. “Feeling’s not mutual. But you’re lucky. I’m willing to forgive you for that.”

“Are you willing to help us out because of it?” inquired Edny.

Xador gave an impression of thinking about it Mace could tell pretty quickly was mostly faked. He hadn’t walked into this room with his decision made, but it was made now. Mace patiently waited it out, before he said, “For this one thing? Yes. I make no promises if you ever come back here, Master Windu, or even if you stay for much longer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mace replied. One way or another, he certainly had no intention of ever being in Xador’s company or needing anything from him one he finally got out of this city.

“So,” said Edny, sounding so relieved Mace was glad Padmé wasn’t here to be vulnerable to that, “we’re doing this. And the sooner, the better. Plans don’t remain secret for long in Colorpa, Master Jedi.”

“Well, we can’t do it tonight,” said Xador. “Big Hargo’s meeting with the town’s other two big guys, and probably also his moles on the force. We show up there, he might stop at nothing to get us all killed for knowing too much-and your Padawan would have to stay far away from this planet forever, Master Windu. Even if we do it tomorrow night, we’d have to make sure beforehand that doesn’t go into a second night. I can find that out for you. I know how to listen on the street.”

If Mace hadn’t been very good at sensing deception, he would’ve been very skeptical indeed. But sensing no deceit, even towards himself, from Xador, he instead asked, “And how well do you know Big Hargo’s headquarters?”

“Not as well as I do,” said Edny. “I can make you a drawing. Anyone have any paper? Anything?”

“We should get out of here before we start anything like that,” said Master Windu.

“We’re not going to my place,” she growled, and looked at Xador.

He looked so dismayed Mace started contemplating whether he should offer to rent a room, or whether that was being too nice to these people. But then he sighed, “Fine. But don’t complain about the smell.”

It wasn’t the smell Mace noticed when stepped into his tiny compact apartment a little while later. The presence of the Dark Side was not terribly strong, the one who had brought it there probably hadn’t spent prolonged amounts of time there. But it was present, and concentrated within the four walls that Xador took a turn around, before digging a rough papyrus-like sheet and a stylus out of a wall drawer.

Edny stretched it out on the floor and got to work. She made lines slowly, occasionally looking at the sheet for minutes before drawing another one. This was going to take time Mace decided to make use of, and he went and sat in the other corner and said, “Back off and give her some room to breathe, Xador.” It was close enough quarters that to do that brought Xador pretty close to him.

He leaned in, and murmured, “If we’re going to be spending any prolonged amount of time here, I need to know if anyone special knows where you live. It might not be a bad idea to tell me even if you intend to keep living here.”

Xador looked skeptical at that second statement, and sounded sullen when he said, “I don’t bring many people here. Not many of them would fit, would they? Though I did take a lass back here recently, if you know what I mean.” That lewd smirk was very unnecessary, but also short-lived, as he continued, “And then a man who claimed to be her brother came barging in two days later, but he didn’t hurt me. But he was…I don’t even know, but I just found him to be scary, you know.”

Mace’s mind was already trying to figure out why such a man would be coming to Xador when he was pretty damn sure he had never been a particularly significant person in Colorpa’s underground. But more information he could still get immediately: “Did you learn his name? Or hers?”

He shook his head. “She said her name was Blaya. I suppose if she was real close to big Hargo or someone else or something she could’ve been using a fake one. Don’t remember any family name. Her brother just said he was her brother. It was scary enough answering his questions; I didn’t ask any.”

“Anything about what he asked you in particular stand out?” Mace asked, hoping he didn’t take that question as a cue to go into unneeded details.

But Xador just shrugged. “Nah, just where I’d met her and if we’d swapped contacts and did I ever expect to see her again? He would’ve scared me out of it even if I had planned to, and I hadn’t. Though he looked around my place as if he thought he might see something interesting there, but I don’t think he saw anything.”

It was less likely, Mace thought, that either he or Blaya been targeting Xador for anything than that they’d simply been worried he was targeting them. “Can you at least give me a physical description of the two of them?” he asked.

Of course he could give a very thorough physical description of Blaya. Not all the details were ones Mace would likely be able to use for identifying her, but he took note of her number of visible piercings, the description of her plucked eyebrows, and even her “flashy” walk. Her alleged brother he described as “tall, pale, long dark hair in a braid. His ears were unusually small. Dressed really simply, completely unlike her. Grey eyes moved around a lot; I tell you, it was unnatural.”

All the while Edny had been working, and now she had the ground floor drawn out and was working on the upper level. The two men knelt to examine her work so far. “Two entrances,” Mace mused out loud. “Either likely to be less guarded than the other?”

“Maybe the one in the back,” said Edny, “especially if it’s a busy night. Of course the doors of both entrances are alarmed.”

According to the lines she’d drawn, there was a long hallway between two sets of rooms that led to the back entrance, meaning they’d have to traverse it before doing anything else. “So if they’re going to know we’re there immediately, I might as well come in the front, where we’ll be less boxed in. It would be better if you two didn’t come in with me. If we want for you to be in there, you’ll have to either get in before or sneak in after.”

“I like the first,” said Xador, grinning.

“I prefer the second,” said Edny, hastily.

“I am not making that decision yet,” Mace informed both of them. “What are in each of these rooms? Do you know?”

“These two are offices,” she pointed to the two rooms to the right of the front entrance. “This one,” the room to the left of the hall from the back entrance, “is where Big Hargo entertains most of his guests. There’s this large table with two plain chairs and two hideous ones, and a large portable vid screen. The rest of the rooms I’ve never been into, though I’m pretty sure that one,” she pointed to the room opposite one of the offices, “usually contains contraband.”

Mace took in those rooms, particularly the one he had guests in. “How far is this to scale?” he was asking, when his comm chirped. The feeling of foreboding that instantly hit him had him standing up with an, “Excuse me,” and hurrying out of the apartment to answer it.

Sure enough, he barely had time to get a “Yes,” out, before Padmé, her voice steady but unable to conceal her distress, said to him, “Master, I think I’ve picked up a stalker, and one who has been at least touched by the Dark Side, and probably more.”

Instantly the resulting options ran through Mace’s head, as he calmly asked, “How long do you think he’s been tracking you?”

“Not long. I first became suspicious of it when I took Nyder and Clistara out to log in. I spent the entire time we were there with a very strong feeling we were being watched, and we’d dressed to blend in. And when I asked the two of them about it, they spoke of the same feeling. Then when we left, I saw someone else leave. A figure covered in enough clothes I couldn’t tell sex or even species; all I could see was a sliver of pale skin and eyes. We got back to the inn as fast as we could, but I think I caught a glimpse of him behind us halfway there. And I could sense the Dark Side coming from him. I don’t know if he’d even Force-sensitive. If he isn’t, he might have lost us; the street was really crowded.”

“Can’t take the chance,” said Mace, “even if you can’t sense him around at the moment.”

“No, I can’t,” said Padmé. “Not that I think Nyder entirely believes me when I tell him. I’m not sure how much longer I can talk to you away from him, Master; I’m seriously worried he might run off.”

Mace considered for a second, then said, “Then you’d best get them moving along with you first. I think it would be better if you moved out of Alopi for a few days. Not too far; I’d prefer if one of us is able to go back and retrieve the router within a few hours at all times. The city of Tanzer is close enough, and I know they automatically let in anyone who’s been let into Alopi. Try traveling at the most crowded time of day if you think it’ll help. And I’ll try to get over to you as fast as I can.”

Maybe, Mace thought, after they’d said goodbye and cut the connection, he should keep things simple here in Colorpa. He’d committed to doing this thing with Big Hargo, and it was still probably a good idea that didn’t lose him *too* much time, especially if he could also learn a bit more about which members of the city’s underground were after him and Padmé. But after that, he would see if Edny would get him access to the transit tower data, and then he could finally leave town.

 

####  **Alopi**

 

“We’re getting out of Alopi,” Padmé told her two charges as soon as she walked back into the room at the inn. Clistara was lying on one of the beds, looking like she was trying to nap. Nyder had been pacing back and forth, clutching a piece of the inn’s complimentary power-wiring (a common necessity here in Alopi) and twisting it half around his fingers.

As she started to pull herself up, he stopped and glared at her, which wasn’t exactly the response she’d expected. “I just want to know one thing,” he said. “What did you do to possibly get us stalked?”

“What makes you think she did anything?” Clistara asked. “They really could’ve started doing it without that, trust me.”

“I know,” he said, “but she’s not very good at hiding guilt.”

Padmé had been around the galaxy enough to know how he might react if she told him she’d stopped a rape. Now was not the time to argue about such things either. So she just said, “That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?” he sneered, and oh no. She should’ve expected it, she supposed, with the amount of stress involved in their current situation.

Clistara came to her rescue, snapping, “Are you really going to waste time with that? Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

“You know, I really don’t trust you,” he turned on her. Her response was just to focus hard on strapping on her shoes.

“As I was saying,” Padmé took advantage of the pause, “we’re going to head for Tanzer. We show we’ve been in Alopi, we’re automatically let in, it’s not too hard to hide out there, and we can hope my Master will be able to come there before long. He’s one of the most powerful Jedi there is.”

“Your Master, huh?” Clistara looked up, and now suddenly she appeared wary.

Padmé could guess why. “He won’t hurt you,” she said, because that much she could be certain of. “He may ask you a lot of questions, of course.”

“I’ll be lucky if that’s all he does,” said Clistara, growing angry.

“Isn’t that inevitable anyway?” Nyder pointed out to her. “Now who’s the one making pointless fussing?”

Another pause, and Padmé said, “We’ve got about half an hour before most people in the city get out of their jobs and the streets will be at their most crowded. We leave by the city’s southern entrance, we’ll be out within the hour. They offer rides there, and under the circumstances, I think we can pay for one if it doesn’t cost too much.”

“We can get one without paying for it,” said Clistara. “I know how.”

“You really think she’ll agree to that?” laughed a scornful Nyder.

Normally he would’ve been right, but in the current situation, Padmé simply replied, “Not if it’s easy for us to pay for it, or even take public transit. If it’s that or spent more than a day and a half out on the roads between cities, though, I would be willing to do it. Keeping all three of us alive and away from detection takes priority over everything right now.”

That last line had definitely been a good idea. Padmé could sense some of the general bad feelings stewing in the both of them subside a little. So she finished, “Hopefully we’ll be able to get a cheap one. So let’s start getting everything together.”


End file.
